My Nightingale
by Edward's Eternal
Summary: Edward, a photographer without roots, meets Bella, a nurse in the ER after a slight mishap. He is everything she isn't allowed. She is everything he didn't know he needed. Together they make their way, fighting against what threatens to separate them.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again my friends. I have another story to share with you. Somewhat angsty at times, but I promise an HEA as always. **

**Housekeeping - I own nothing- it all belongs to Ms Meyers.**

** This fic will update about every 5 days. **

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><p><strong>~EDWARD~<strong>

*****Present time*****

My fingers yanked impatiently at the silk of the tie I was attempting to get in place. I cursed through gritted teeth as I looked at the skewed knot, and once again tore it off. Taking a deep breath in, trying to calm myself, I started again. A memory stirred of the last time I wore one of these godforsaken things.

_Small hands held the length of silk in her palms, her touch confident as she twisted and tugged, smiling while she patted the perfect Windsor knot in place. Standing on her tiptoes she reached up to smooth my shirt collar in place, and I ducked down to help her reach. Warm fingers slid along the fabric as she pulled and adjusted; her voice low and teasing. "Considering the magic your hands can create with so many other things, you'd think you could figure out a tie, Edward."_

_Growling, I lifted her off the floor easily, holding her against my chest. "I'll show you magic later, little girl. My big wand and all."_

_Her giggle made me smile, her kiss was filled with warmth; her touch love personified. She was mine._

I shook my head to clear it as I looked in the mirror, my reflection angry now as I yanked the knot too tight. I didn't have those hands anymore.

He did.

Grabbing my rarely used suit jacket, I thrust my arms into the sleeves then added my press credentials and phone to the right-hand pocket. I frowned when my fingers brushed against something in the bottom of the pocket and I pulled the item out, stopping when I saw what it was.

_**Thank you for doing this. I love you.~ Yours, IB**_

Her writing. Her words. Her love.

Lifting the paper to my nose, I could still smell the faint scent of her on it. Light, airy, floral. She always smelled so good to me. Like home.

I looked at the words again and swallowed the painful lump. I had worn this jacket to have dinner with Renee and Phil—a dinner neither they, nor I, wanted to be at, but I did it for her. Back when she was mine.

_Mine. _

She wasn't mine anymore.

Tossing the note on the table, I picked up my camera case, although I didn't plan on using it tonight. It was the prop to get me in. The only way I could think to come face-to-face with the past that haunted me. To get answers to the questions that echoed in my head daily. To stop the ache that burned in my chest every waking moment. Maybe once I did, I could move on.

I ignored the voice in my head telling me moving on was something that would never happen.

The ballroom was crowded. Overflowing with people dressed in gowns, tuxes and jewels. Too many voices, too many faces; all laughing, moving, talking. I swallowed heavily, trying to stay in control. How different this was for her. There was a time she would have hated this sort of event as much as I did. The entire over-the-top fake glamour would've made her shudder, and she would never have wanted to be the center of attention. However, it would seem, things had changed.

She had changed.

I looked around, trying to find her among the many people present.

She was here somewhere.

I could _feel _it.

I hadn't been this close to her in nine months. And now I was here, I wasn't leaving without seeing her. I wanted to know _why_.

Why was I so easy to throw away?

Why had she stopped loving me so abruptly?

She owed me that, at least.

Getting in was easy. I was known well enough, most of the hotel security simply let me walk through. The one time I was stopped, I used my smile, a sly wink, as if we were sharing a secret, flashed my pass, and explained the bride-to-be wanted some special photos taken for her groom and I was doing it on the down-low. The idiot let me in without another thought.

I moved around the perimeter scanning the crowd, keeping my eyes open for her mother and Phil. If they saw me I would be escorted out immediately. I sidled up to one of the many bars and ordered a scotch, knocking it back quickly for added courage. I ordered a second and stood in the shadows as I watched.

Looking. Seeking. For one person.

And then I saw her.

Across the room.

Surrounded by the sort people she once claimed to dislike: fake, loud, brazen.

Seeing her felt like a punch in the gut. A hard one. My stomach twisted, the acid burning its way up my throat as I observed her. She was still perfect. Small. Even in heels, she was tiny enough she would fit under my arm as though she was made to go there. Her dark hair was twisted up in some sort of elaborate style on top of her head, not a strand out of place. Her gown: long, black, tight, and elegant—so out of place on her petite frame. She always liked flowing, loose clothing that "let her move." She always liked to wear my clothes.

"_You ever gonna give me back that shirt, Izzy B?" I grinned at her from the kitchen. "I might want to wear it again one day."_

"_Nope," she giggled, popping the last part of the word loudly. "I like it."_

_I crossed the room, leaning down, my hands resting on the arms of the chair she was curled up in. The one I had made for her so she could be comfortable in this sparse space where I lived. I brought my face close to hers. "I like it, too." My lips ran down the column of her neck, my teeth pulling on the neckline of the shirt teasingly. "I like it far better on the floor, though."_

_Which was where it ended up a few seconds later. _

We were never able to keep our hands off each other.

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. My eyes focused on her, staring, following her every move as she mingled, talking to people, often smiling as she listened to whatever they were saying. It took everything in me not to cross the room and grab her. My hand curled tight around the glass I was holding, while the other one drummed restlessly on my thigh, anger building as I watched on in silence.

Her smile was still her—shy, sweet. Her posture still spoke of uncertainty; as though she wasn't entirely comfortable with the spectacle playing out around her. Maybe she hadn't changed completely.

My eyes narrowed. There was something else different: a slight limp to her gait that was never there before. A twisted ankle, perhaps? She was constantly tripping and falling. Strangely enough, it was one of the things I had found most endearing about her. For someone so compact and forced to endure various dance lessons most of her life to help make her graceful, she was remarkably clumsy. Except, from the way she walked, it was as if the slight list to her gait wasn't an injury, but part of her now.

My gaze intensified and I willed her to look my way.

To see me.

I stared, my eyes never wavering and then it happened. Her wide, too-big-for-her-face eyes met mine. Deep, brilliant blue met angry, confused green. She blinked and stared, frozen in place. I glared and fumed, trapped in a haze of memories at the way her eyes had looked at me before.

Warm and caring. Filled with desire. Flashing with anger. Flooded with tears. Overflowing with love. Always so emotional. So easy to read. Constantly changing in their beautiful hue, reflecting her mood and emotion—I'd seen them brilliant blue when she was happy, a soft mossy green when tired or sad and a deep slate gray when angry. I'd captured them all on film. I knew their shades by heart. My soul felt the emotions they portrayed with every glance. But now they were different; staring at me with an expression I didn't recognize, a dullness I had never seen in them. They were always filled with life when she was with me.

Not confused and blank as they regarded me, then she frowned and glanced away.

Dismissing me.

My fist tightened on my glass, my hand shaking so hard I was sure the glass would shatter at any moment, spraying scotch all over me and causing blood to drip down my hand.

The way my heart was dripping blood inside my chest at her indifference to seeing me after all this time.

"Edward?"

I turned to the shocked voice beside me. "What the hell are you doing here?" Alice demanded, narrowing her dark eyes. "How did you even get in?"

I smirked at her, taking a swallow of my scotch, letting the burn settle the tight muscles of my throat. "I came to wish the happy couple congratulations. Capture the moment for prosperity." I indicated the camera I had slung over my shoulder.

"You can't be here! You have no right!"

"_I_ have no right?" I sneered.

She stepped forward. "You chose to walk away. You can't do this to her. Leave."

I gaped at her. I chose to walk away? What the fuck was she talking about?

She grabbed my arm. "Please, Edward. If you ever had any feelings for her, leave. Leave now. I'm begging you."

"I want to talk to her."

"Why?" she hissed.

"I want answers."

She shook her head. "She can't give them to you. Do you not understand?"

"No, Alice. No, I don't. I don't understand a fucking thing about this entire situation."

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. She opened her mouth to speak when I heard it. The voice that had haunted my days, and called to me in my restless sleep. The one that caused my nightmares and had me reach out in desperation, crying out in the darkness to keep the fading image close. The voice that had, at one point in my existence, soothed and calmed me, yet now stirred a frenzy of swirling emotions I wasn't sure I could control.

Her voice.

My IzzyB.

"Alice? Is there a problem?"

My hand closed around Alice's arm, gently pushing her to the side. Bella stood there, a mere three feet from me, staring at me with a frown on her face. Her blue eyes, the ones I loved to capture on film, were confused and unblinking. I stepped forward, my entire body shaking, barely holding on.

"Not a problem," I assured her, my voice thick with emotion. "We were just talking." I drew in a deep breath. "IzzyB."

She grimaced, her hand flying to her forehead, where her fingers restlessly rubbed the skin as though she were in pain. Her fathomless eyes stared at me, her brow furrowed.

"I apologize," she spoke up. "You have me at a disadvantage." Her hand rose in greeting. "I'm Isabella Swan…and you are?"

I stared at her hand and then her beautiful face.

The woman I had loved passionately—desperately—and still loved to this day.

My former fiancée… who was looking at me with no recognition.

As if I were a stranger to her.

And then it hit me as I took in the emptiness in her eyes.

I was.

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><p><strong>So... chapter two we will go back to the beginning and move forward from there. I hope you'll be with me!<strong>

**Thanks to Deb Drotuno and Trina for prereading, and their support. Thank you Midnight Cougar for your mighty red pen and friendship. **

**Thank you for reading. See you mid week. **


	2. Chapter 2

**The Beginning**

**~Edward~**

I swung myself up onto the ledge, cursing Emmett silently as I shifted and balanced. Tonight, of all nights, was when he had his boats out, and he wanted this picture. He rarely asked me for anything outside of work, so I couldn't refuse him. It had rained earlier and now all the surfaces in the city were covered with a thin layer of ice after the temperature dropped suddenly. The angle was wrong from the ground, however, and I needed this extra height to give me the right depth for the shot.

I lifted my shoulder to distribute the weight of the camera bag I had on it. I should've shucked it off before getting on the ledge, but Seth had been a no-show so I was on my own and didn't want the bag stolen. The contents were far too valuable. At least it was a cold, clear night—perfect for what Emmett wanted— with no wind to hamper me. The cold I could handle. The wind was just a bitch.

Another few inches—that was all I needed for the perfect shot. My foot carefully slid along the ice as I balanced myself and the camera, the view coming into perfect focus, the water smooth and reflective. The shutter clicked as I got shot after shot of the illuminated boats anchored in the harbour. I only needed a couple more, then I was done. A sudden shout and a hand on my leg caused me to start, my foot to slip, the bag on my shoulder to shift, and me to lurch sideways. I heard another shout, felt the sharp tug on my coat that threw me backward, followed by a sharp pain in my head…

… and then the world went black.

****MN****

My eyes flew open, my entire body in panic mode. The space around me was dim, unfamiliar, and unfocused.

_Where the hell was I?_

Someone was bending over me, the weight feeling peculiar and not welcome. My head ached and throbbed, and there was something wet and warm in my eyes. Even my arms felt heavy, as if they were restricted when I pushed on the weight, which only seemed to increase, and I started struggling in earnest, cursing and striking out blindly.

"Get off him!" A voice broke through my panic. "You're frightening him!"

"He needs to be restrained! He's been fighting us the whole way here!"

"He needs to be looked after and I need to stop his head bleeding—back off, Ben. _Now_!"

Small, warm hands touched my face as I turned my head, trying desperately to focus and figure out where I was. A voice, close to my ear, soft and caring spoke. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe. Please stop thrashing, Edward—you're making the bleeding worse."

_Blood_? I was bleeding? Is that what was in my eyes?

I shuddered and a wave of nausea washed over me.

God, I couldn't stand the sight of blood—especially my own.

Somehow, hearing my name and quiet timbre of her voice helped to calm me down and I drew in a deep breath, pulling in the needed oxygen.

"Good. That's good," the voice soothed. "More deep breaths. Good."

I turned my head toward the sound of the voice. "Where am I?" I rasped.

"You're at Seattle General. You fell. Do you remember?"

I frowned, searching my brain, and then it all came back.

The shot.

The ice.

The hand grabbing me and the shout.

Seth.

That little fucker had startled me.

I tried to sit up, struggling against the sheet and whatever machines they had hooked up to me. "My camera. Where's my stuff?"

Hands on my chest pushed me back. "Stay still Edward, or I'll call Ben back. Let me clean your eyes and cover your wound."

"My camera?" I insisted.

I heard a sigh, then felt the weight of my camera in my searching hands. "Your stuff is fine. Your bag and clothes are right here. Now will you settle down?" There was a pause and her voice became more teasing. "Or will I get Ben back?"

My fingers ran over the metal and plastic, checking for cracks, grateful it seemed to be fine. "I'll be good," I grumbled. "No need to get the fucker back."

"Language," she tsked.

Cold hit my forehead with a stinging sensation, and I yelped.

"Sorry. I need to clean the gash."

"You better be a doctor," I growled.

"I'm a nurse. Will that do?"

I huffed. "For now."

"I can let you keep bleeding if you want to wait for the doctor."

Right. Blood.

"No," I agreed grudgingly.

"Fine. Then I'll get to work."

"Why am I in a damn gown?" I growled, fingering the scratchy cotton. "Is my coat in that bag?"

"You were bleeding and we had to examine you, Edward," she explained patiently. "Your coat is with your clothes in the bag under your bed. Soon as you're done and all cleaned up, I'll give you a set of scrubs to get into."

"Can't I get back in my shirt? I like that shirt," I insisted stubbornly.

"It's covered in blood and it's wet."

I shuddered again. I really hated blood. "Oh. Okay."

"Do you want me to get your, um, friend?" she asked, working away gently at my head.

"Friend?"

"I think he said his name was Seth?"

"No," I hissed. "It's his fucking fault I fell. Tell him to go to—"

"_Edward!_"

"How do you know my name?" I demanded.

"For one thing, Seth informed the paramedics and two, I checked your wallet."

Well, that made sense.

"Why do I have an IV? I hit my head; it's not as if I was in some sort of accident."

The tolerant voice sighed. "You were unresponsive at the scene. It's standard procedure. Once the doctor examines you and okays it, I can take it out." She paused. "We're only trying to help you."

"I hate needles," I admitted quietly.

Her voice became teasing again. "If you're good, I'll give you a sucker, Edward."

I huffed. I wasn't some kid who she could bribe with sweets.

I did like suckers, though.

"What kind?"

"Grape."

That was my favorite. Maybe I'd cut her some slack.

Who was she anyway?

"I don't know your name. That hardly seems fair."

"Are you always this grumpy and demanding?"

"Only when I hit my head and can't see for shit. I need to see. My whole life revolves around me being able to see." I could hear the panic creep into my voice.

I felt the bed tip back. Gentle hands touched my face then brushed along my hairline. "Such language," she chided me. "I'm going to clean your eyes now. You have slush, dirt, and some blood in there. Once I flush them, you'll be able to see then, okay?" She paused. "And my name is Bella."

I sighed in relief at her calming words. "Okay."

A few minutes later she spoke. "Okay, Edward, try to open your eyes. They might be sore, but I have the lights low."

Slowly, I opened the lids, blinking. My eyes felt as though they were coated in sandpaper, but I could see.

"Hello."

My eyes flew to the sound of the voice. Beside my bed was my nurse, Bella. The only light in the room was the one over the bed. She was bent low and close; her warm smile the first thing to greet me. Time seemed to stand still as I looked into a pair of eyes so blue, deep, and fathomless, they took my breath away. A small shock ran down my spine as I stared into their depth.

"How are the eyes?"

I cleared my throat. "Good. Yeah, ah, I can see. They're a little sore." I frowned. "So is my fu—" At the look on her face, I paused and reworded my statement. "Um…head."

"I'm sure it is. You hit it very hard. I'll finish cleaning it and then the doctor will come in and see you." I relaxed into my pillow as she tended the cut on my head, wincing at the pain. "Sorry," she whispered. "It's pretty bad and you need stitches." Drawing back, she glared at me. "_What_ were you thinking standing on the ledge of that building? Do you realize what would have happened if you'd fallen forward, not sideways? A bad gash and a headache would've been the least of your troubles. You would have been road pizza!"

I chuckled at her description, and her bossiness. I studied her with my photographer's eye, noticing so many details about her appearance, even with the soreness still lingering with my vision. She was a little thing, with pale, almost translucent skin, set off with dark hair she had pulled up into a ponytail. Her eyes were amazing— huge, and a deep, clear shade of blue—set in her almost elfin face; such a contrast to her dark hair it was startling. I knew, without a doubt, if the lighting was better, there would be freckles scattered over her nose and the full lips that were pursed in anger at me would be rosy and soft. Her hands were on her hips as she lectured me; a stance I was sure she thought made her look tough and serious. It completely failed, only making her more endearing. Used to no one ever taking notice of anything I did or how I did it, her worried care was almost…touching.

"I wasn't standing, I was crouching," I offered, unsure as to why I was trying to defend myself.

"You shouldn't have been on that ledge!"

"I needed the shot. It was the right angle."

Her brow furrowed as she went back to cleaning my head. "You'd risk your life? For a picture?"

I smirked. If only she knew—crouching on the wide ledge of a building was hardly dangerous stuff for me. I had only been doing it as a favor to my boss. "Here. Look." I held up my camera, squinting as I flipped through the last few shots, holding it up for her to look at. All the sailboats lit up in the darkness, their lights reflecting mirror images on the flat water, were fantastic. "I wanted _this _shot."

She paused in her ministrations and gazed at the photo in the viewfinder. "It's lovely. But not worth risking your life."

Without thinking, I wrapped my hand around hers and squeezed it. "My life was never at risk. Promise." She continued to frown and I squeezed her hand again, the strange need to comfort her overwhelming. "I was perfectly safe. It's my own fault. I should've removed the bag from my shoulder—it knocked me off balance. I wouldn't have fallen over the edge." I frowned. "I wouldn't have even fallen if Seth hadn't startled me and grabbed my leg."

"He feels very bad about what happened."

"Good."

She shook her head. "Your shoulder is bruised and you have a nasty gash on your head. Probably a concussion as well. You're going to feel it for a few days. Hope it was worth the picture."

"Good thing I have you to look after me then, isn't it?" I grinned at her and lowered my voice, my hand tightening on hers. "My very own Florence Nightingale."

Looking down at our hands, she blushed.

_Blushed. _

I couldn't remember the last time I saw a woman blush. I couldn't remember the last time I found a woman so appealing. But there was something about her. Something that drew me in and made me want to be closer to her.

Without thinking, I raised my camera and started clicking. Her gaze flew up, and I captured her startled expression and flushed cheeks perfectly.

Leaning forward, she grabbed it out of my hand. "Stop that."

"The camera loves you."

Her cheeks darkened even further. My fingers itched to capture that. They itched to touch her again. I stuck my hand back out. "Edward Cullen."

"I know. I saw your wallet, remember?"

I chuckled. "Just wanted to do it properly. Your name? Or should I just call you Nurse Nightingale?"

Her smile was shy; her hand once again encased by mine. "Bella Swan."

I held her hand tighter. "Another lovely bird. A pleasure, Ms. Swan."

I coughed, my throat feeling dry. "Can I have some water?"

She poured me a glass, and I sipped the cool beverage gratefully.

"Better?"

"My mouth tastes like…ah, awful."

She rummaged in her pocket and brought out a small tin. "I have Altoids. Want one?"

"Yeah."—I paused—"Please."

She pressed a small disc to my lip and I opened wide enough for her to slip it in. For some reason I wanted to capture the end of her finger and nibble on it, but I resisted.

"Okay now?"

The warm taste of cinnamon filled my mouth, banishing the wet cotton wool taste that had been there since I'd woken up. "Yes, thanks."

She popped one in her own mouth. "I'm addicted to these."

"Thanks for sharing."

"I'll get the doctor and tell him you're awake." She turned to leave.

"You'll come back, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll wait right here."

"Good plan," she stated dryly.

But she was smiling when she left the room.

****MN****

"You have a concussion. You need to stay overnight for observation," Dr. Newton informed me.

I groaned; I really didn't want to stay here. I could look after myself. "I don't need to stay. I'll be fine." It wasn't as though this was my first concussion.

Across the room, Bella laughed. "He's a stubborn one, Doc."

He frowned. "You just said you live alone. You need to be woken up every couple hours, and your eyes should be flushed a few more times. We're pretty full, but you can stay here and Isabella can check on you."

Suddenly going home to my empty loft was no longer appealing. Not with the chance of spending more time with the sweet little nurse. I held up my hands in supplication. "If you insist, Doc."

He nodded. "Isabella can stitch you up, if you're okay with that? She's got a light touch."

I bet she did. Again I nodded. Glancing over, I saw her watching us warily and I winked at her. Her gaze skittered away to a spot on the wall and I tried not to laugh as I looked down.

I liked her reactions. A lot.

Dr. Newton spoke quietly with Bella, patted her shoulder and left, muttering something about my chart and instructions. I followed his retreating form with narrowed eyes, and then watched as Bella opened cupboards and drawers looking for whatever she needed to stitch me up. For some reason I didn't like him touching her.

"Why does he call you Isabella?" I asked as she laid out some supplies on the table.

"He's my boss, and that's my name."

"You said it was Bella."

She smiled at me, the sweetness of it warming my chest.

"My friends call me Bella. He prefers Isabella, which is fine."

Her friends. She introduced herself to me as Bella; as if I was her friend. I liked being thought of as her friend.

For now.

"I need a couple other needles. I'll go get them and we'll get started."

Ugh, Needles. Blood. I could feel my face blanch. "I hate needles, too." I looked down as I admitted yet another weakness.

She patted my arm in comfort. "I can use a topical freezing cream on your head first. You won't even feel me stitching you up. Promise."

"Do I get my sucker afterward?"

With a grin, she pulled one out of her pocket. "There's another one when I'm done if you're good for me."

I took the sucker, ripped off the plastic cover, and stuck it in my mouth. "I'll try. Make it quick, okay?"

Bella giggled.

"What?"

"You're cute when you're squeamish." She cupped my cheek. "I'll be gentle." Then she winked and left the room.

I crunched my sucker. She gave it to me. I liked that.

She thought I was cute. Very few people would ever describe me as cute. Yet…

I liked that, as well.

****MN****

She did have a light touch. Bending close to me as she worked, the antiseptic smell of the hospital faded away and all I could smell was her. It was like walking in a summer garden: light, airy, floral. It was heady and I dragged in lungful's of her fragrance. She talked quietly as she worked away; no doubt to distract me. Little did she know, her closeness was enough of a distraction already. Somehow, my hands ended up resting on her hips while she worked. When she raised her eyebrow at me quizzically I told her it was to keep her steady. Her eye rolling made me smile.

Everything about this petite woman seemed to make me smile.

After applying a bandage, she stepped back. "Okay. Let's get you comfortable and settled. I sent Seth home and told him you weren't angry with him."

"I'm not?"

"It was an accident. He didn't mean for you to fall. He said he had called your name a couple times and he thought you knew he was there."

I frowned. I did tend to block things out when I was working. As I looked at Bella, I realized I wasn't mad. My fall had let me meet her. So, I simply shrugged.

"I, ah, I need to, um—"

"What?"

"Um—"My hand indicated the door behind her and I was shocked at my inability to say it out loud. I huffed. "I need to hit the head."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, of course," she murmured, pushing the cart out of the way and lowering the bed. "You may be dizzy. Stand up slowly."

Swinging my legs out of the bed, I stood up, surprised to find she was right. The floor tilted and I reached out. Bella's arm came around me, and I leaned heavily into her, blinking for a moment to clear the white spots flashing across my eyes and get my equilibrium back. "Whoa," I breathed out.

She looked up at me from my side. "Are you always this stubborn?"

I grinned down at her. She was like a pixie, tucked perfectly under my arm, her head resting against my shoulder as she glared up at me. I hadn't realized just _how _tiny she was until I stood beside her. "You're just a little thing, aren't you?"

"Pfft," she snorted. "I'm big enough to take on the likes of you, buddy."

_Buddy?_

I chuckled all the way to the can. I kept chuckling as she handed me a set of scrubs to change into, asking me almost shyly if I needed help. I let her off the hook and got dressed myself, wincing at the sight of my bruised head in the mirror.

I also faked being dizzy so I could put my arm around her again on the way back to the bed. I liked how she felt there, so close to my body.

"Can the IV come out now?"

"Yes. Sit down and I'll take it out."

She helped me sit on the bed and I noticed her looking at the ink that ran up and down my arms. Her eyes were wide as she took in all the tattoos revealed on my skin. The whole time she removed the IV, her eyes kept drifting toward the ink on my arms. I smiled kindly at her, unsure why she brought out such feelings of tenderness and wanting to share with her. "You can touch them if you want," I offered, when she finished securing a small square of plastic covering the injection site.

She stepped closer, transfixed, as her fingers ran over the ink on my forearms. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent as she traced the swirls and designs. "Do you like that?" I asked curiously.

She looked up and nodded silently, biting her lip. "Do you have any ink, Nightingale?"

"No," she whispered. "I'd like one."

"What would you like?"

She shrugged. "I don't know—something significant. But what, I haven't decided yet."

"Do you know where?"

She nodded, her fingers lingering over her heart. "Here."

My voice was quiet. "Don't mar that lovely skin until you're sure. You'll wear it the rest of your life."

"You don't have any, um, on your chest." She paused. "I mean, I noticed that. Before—um, when they first brought you in and we removed your clothes."

"No. Not yet. I will, I hope, one day find the right image to wear over my heart. Just like you will."

Her fingers kept tracing. "Will you tell me about yours?"

"One day."

Our eyes locked; a silent conversation passing between us.

_Will I see you again?_

_Yes, you will._

The door opened, breaking the bubble that seemed to have wrapped around us. "Bella! We need you!"

It was only when she stepped back I realized how close we had been pressed together. I missed her warmth right away.

"I have to go. I need you to lie down."

She handed me some pills and a glass of water. "This will help with the pain. Take them, please."

"You'll be back?" I asked, doing as she requested.

She smiled. "Yes." She glanced at the clock. "I'll check on you after my break."

I grabbed her hand. "Spend your break, here, with me?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "I'll bring you something. You must be hungry."

"I just need you."

"Edward—"

"Go do what you have to do, and come back." I drew in a deep breath. "Please."

"Okay," she breathed out, pulling up the blanket.

"See you soon, IzzyB."

"Bella," she corrected me. "My friends call me Bella."

I shook my head. "Can't do that."

Her brow furrowed as she paused with her fussing and straightening of my blanket "Why not?"

I leaned back on the arm I had tucked under my head and lifted my other hand, gently running my fingers down her cheek. "I plan on being so much more than just a friend to you, Nightingale. So very much more."

Her cheek was instantly warm and her eyes became huge. She fumbled beside her, grabbing the suture tray. "I'll be back," she murmured, shoving the call button in my hand. "Use this if you need it."

"I will," I called after her, chuckling as she scurried away.

I certainly intended to.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go—the first meeting. Many of you were worried about the angst level. I promise 90% is not angsty... the other 10% though...but as always a HEA. Thank you for reading and all your lovely reviews! They all made me smile. Next update on Sunday. <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

The slight creak of the door made the edges of my lips twitch into a smile. I knew what was coming next. I'd hear the soft footfalls of IzzyB's feet as they came closer, the rubber soles of her shoes making that distinctive squeak on the worn linoleum floor. Then she would lean in, her floral scent surrounding me, and pull her fingers through my hair, murmuring my name to wake me up; her voice a gentle balm to my ears.

Except I wasn't asleep. I'd barely slept all night knowing every two hours she'd be here, beside me, touching me. If she knew I was awake, she wouldn't touch me this way, so I pretended to be dozing. I rested, but my ears and body were on high alert for the creak of the door telling me she had returned. I loved how it felt when her tiny fingers drifted across my forehead, tangling in my hair and sweeping it from my face as she called my name softly. "Edward, wake up for me."

Keeping up the charade, I'd blink and slowly open my eyes, offering her a small grin. "Hey, IzzyB." She'd stopped correcting me about the third time, and simply smiled when I called her that now. Once I was awake, though, her hand dropped and she became my nurse, checking my vitals, then telling me to rest again. A couple times I was lucky enough she gave in to my pleading and sat beside me, letting me ask her questions. Still, the time wasn't enough to find out everything I wanted to know about her. The longest stretch had been her break, when she brought me a sandwich and a container of milk, instructing me to eat. When I eyed the milk doubtfully, and informed her I'd prefer a scotch, she rolled her eyes, opened the container, popped in a straw and held it to my lips. "It's good for you. Drink it."

So I did. I also ate the sandwich covered in mayonnaise, which I hated, because she wanted me to. I had the strangest feeling I would pretty much do anything she asked as long as it earned me one of her warm smiles and abstract touches to my arm…or anywhere else.

I knew her shift was over soon, so this was my last chance. This time I planned on asking for her number, and to see her privately; tonight if she'd let me. I wanted more time with her. A lot more time. I relaxed into the pillows, waiting for her touch.

But the footfalls were wrong, and the heavy hand on my shoulder jostling me, made my eyes fly open. A tall, older woman was standing over me, my chart in her hand. "Wake up, Mr. Cullen."

"Where's IzzyB?"

She frowned at me. "_Bella's_ shift is over. She went home. I'm Mrs. Cope."

Disappointment spiked, and anger hummed down my spine.

She left? Without saying goodbye? A fission of hurt glimmered in my chest.

I sat up, ignoring the small burst of pain in my head as my gaze flew to the clock. "It's only six. She said she worked 'til seven," I insisted.

Mrs. Cope's eyebrows shot up. "I wasn't aware you knew Bella—or her schedule."

"Yeah, we're, ah, friends. Well, acquaintances. Good ones."

"Well, she came in early last night to relieve a sick co-worker, so I came in early to let her go home. She'd already worked a double shift earlier this week. I knew she had to be tired."

I frowned. I was glad IzzyB had someone who was looking out for her, but I still was pissed off she had left.

"Oh. Well, that was kind of you."

"Bella is kind to everyone, so I try and return the favor when I can."

That news didn't surprise me. I had a feeling she was kind. I hoped last night her kindness was more about me than her doing her job, though. If she was gone, there was no point staying here—she was the reason I had stayed, so I was done. Flinging back the scratchy blanket, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

I stood up slowly. "Going home."

"Not until the doctor sees you."

"Nope. Now."

"I can't let you leave."

I winced a little bending down to grab my bag from under the bed. "I'll sign an AMA form. But I'm leaving."

"Mr. Cullen—"

I held up my hand. "I'm leaving." I smirked at her. "Are you planning on standing there while I drop these scrubs or are you gonna get me those forms?"

She huffed a little, her hand on her hip. "Bella said you were ornery and liked to cause trouble."

I had to smile.

"IzzyB was right." I reached behind my head, beginning to pull off the loose smock and arched my eyebrow. "Am I getting those forms?"

She shook her head as she turned and walked away. "Don't you dare leave until I get back."

"Hurry up, then."

I wanted out of here.

****MN****

Standing outside the hospital, I cursed Seth again. My head was pounding. I put up a good front to the staff, refusing help, agitating Mrs. Cope to no end, and finally walking out with her fuming over me for not leaving in a wheelchair.

Like that was gonna happen.

But now, leaning against the cold brick wall outside I could see why they wanted me to.

_Fuck_, my head hurt like a bitch. Between the pain and lack of sleep, I was definitely unsteady on my feet. My clothes were slightly damp and my shirt had blood on it. I hated that.

To top it off, I was pissed no one would give me my Nightingale's information.

I had to find her.

And I would. As soon as I got home, showered this hospital smell off me and slept for a while. I had friends who knew people; someone would be able to help me. Or I could take up residence in the hospital lobby and see her when she came back to work. Mrs. Cope had let it slip when her next shift was.

A soft hand on my arm, and the gentle voice I loved, made me start. "Edward, what are you doing out here?"

I lifted my head off the brick, a smile already curving my lips as I opened my eyes and stared down at IzzyB. "Waiting for you."

She frowned. "Why are you out of bed?"

"I checked myself out."

"What?" she gasped. "Are you crazy?"

I shrugged. "I only stayed because you were there. You left, so there was no point in hanging around." I narrowed my eyes. "You left without even saying goodbye."

Her cheeks colored, fusing with a deep pink that bloomed in two bright circles on her cheeks. "Mrs. Cope ordered me to go home."

"You couldn't come and tell me?"

She shook her head. "No I couldn't. We aren't supposed to…fraternize with the patients, Edward. I didn't want to get in trouble. I, um, was going to…" The blush on her cheeks darkened, spreading down to her neck. "I was going to call you later and see how you were."

My fingers itched to touch her cheek. I wanted to know if her blush warmed her skin. I wanted to feel that warmth, but her words grabbed my attention.

"You were going to call me, IzzyB?" I smirked. "How'd you get my number?"

"Off your file," she admitted, her cheeks now blazing.

"I was gonna give it to you. And ask for yours," I murmured and gave in to the feeling, cupping one of her cheeks as I stroked it with my thumb. Her skin was incredible—soft, smooth, and yes, so very warm under my touch.

Our eyes met and held. So many emotions were in her wide, expressive gaze. In the early morning sun, her eyes looked more green than blue. I could see shadows of exhaustion under them and the sudden need to care for her hit me. An overwhelming desire to pick her up and cradle her against me, letting her rest in my arms was so strong, I had to drop my hand and step back. I blinked at the sensation—I had never once in my life experienced anything like it.

My sudden movement made me dizzy and I leaned back into the wall for support.

"You need to go home."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I need to grab a cab."

"I'll drive you."

I looked at her in surprise. Alone in a car with her—even for a short time—I'd like that. "Yeah?"

"My car is across the street. I'll go get it."

I pushed off the wall. "I'll walk with you."

She hesitated, and I took total advantage of the situation, draping my arm around her shoulders. "I'll lean on you."

Without hesitation, her arm wrapped around my waist and I drew her closer, once again marveling at how well she fit in beside me.

"I'll hold you up," she promised. "You'll be fine."

I squeezed her a little nearer.

With her tucked close to me, I already was fine.

****MN****

IzzyB faltered at the door to my loft. Conversation had been limited in the car, aside from directions. I had leaned back, closing my eyes and fighting the pain as she drove. Her car smelled like her and I breathed in the scent, holding the air in my lungs, filling myself up with her essence.

When we arrived, I hesitated, unsure how to ask her to come upstairs with me, but to my surprise, she turned off the car and came around to my door, extending her hand. I could feel her growing nerves as she stood beside me in the elevator; once again the need to care for her swept through me. I inched closer, pulling her to my side, smiling as her arm around my waist tightened. If she thought she was caring for me and it helped it her relax, I was all for that.

Her eyes took in the expansive space I lived in. I looked around, knowing what she was seeing, and for the first time, I wished the space was different.

Large and open; it was also utterly bleak. In one corner was my bed. The huge, plush mattress set was comfortable enough, but I had never bothered buying a bed frame, so it just sat on the floor, the sheets rumpled and messy. A makeshift cupboard was shoved against the wall, the door open, a towel draped over it, hardly any clothes inside. On the floor was my large duffle bag I used when traveling, and which also served as a dresser for me.

A single chair graced the space in the middle of the room, an ottoman in front of it with a small table and lamp beside it.

The kitchen ran against the wall, a tall counter separating the areas. There was one, hard wooden stool tucked under the edge. No other table was in the space.

The opposite corner had the only door and dividing walls in the room, other than the bath. My darkroom was located there—where I developed all my own work, not trusting anyone else with my film. Even all my digital stuff I printed myself, with my own printers, and I kept it all on external hard drives. Outside the door was a large desk with all my computer equipment and shelves for my cameras and lenses.

The entire space was stark and empty. There was nothing personal in the space—no pictures or knickknacks anywhere. There was a flat screen TV, I used only on occasion and an iPod dock for music—one thing I loved besides my photography. The walls were either rough brick or plain concrete, the ceiling open with exposed beams and lots of light coming in from the skylights, and the huge windows that graced two of the walls. It was a place to sleep, to work and be alone.

She was quiet as we walked over the lone chair and she gently pushed me down into the seat. "Did they give you some painkillers?"

"No. I told them I didn't need any."

"Of course you did."

I smirked at her. "I have some in the cabinet."

"I'll get them."

She moved away, and I pointed to the door closest to me. "That's the bathroom."

She disappeared and I leaned my head back, closing my eyes. At least that room was decent. I had a large walk-in shower, and all new tiling and fixtures. The bathroom and the kitchen had been done after I moved in. The rest of the space had never really mattered—at least until this moment.

"Here."

She held out two pills and a glass of water. Gratefully, I swallowed them down, watching as IzzyB walked to the kitchen, opening cupboards and the fridge, pulling a few things out.

"What are you doing?"

"Making you something to eat before I go."

"You don't—"

She interrupted me. "I am, so be quiet."

I settled my head back on the chair. "You're really bossy, IzzyB—has anyone ever tell you that?"

She laughed as she bustled around. "You're one to talk, mister."

I could hear eggs being cracked and the sizzle of bacon; I was grateful I had actually been to the store and gotten some food in the place for a change. Usually I ate a lot of take-out. The sounds of the domesticity coming from my rarely used kitchen made me smile and I relaxed, letting the pills do their work. I drifted a little, my smile lingering at the sound of her quiet humming as she moved around and the scent of breakfast wafted in the air.

A touch to my face startled me, and I realized I had actually dozed off. My little Nightingale was sitting on the ottoman, a fork in her hand. "I need you to eat," she instructed affectionately and lifted the fork to my mouth. Obediently, I opened and chewed the delicious omelet she made me. I knew I should take the plate and fork away from her and feed myself, yet I didn't want to. I frowned and shook my head when the next forkful came to me. "We share." I grinned as she put the fork down, cutting the amount in half before feeding herself. Then I accepted the next mouthful. Not a word passed between us as the plate emptied. Finally, we each munched on a piece of toast and I finished off the juice she poured me.

"Thank you."

She nodded and got up. "You said you wanted a shower. Why don't you do that before I go home? I'll tidy the kitchen."

I didn't want her to go—she looked weary and I wanted her to stay here. But I knew that wasn't happening, so I agreed and shuffled over to my cupboard, pulling out fresh clothes and disappearing into the bathroom.

When I emerged, feeling better having washed the antiseptic smell off me, I had to stifle a groan of pleasure. My bed was straightened up, the covers pulled back, pillows fluffed and waiting for me. The kitchen was neat again and IzzyB was waiting. I was so tired I didn't even argue, slipping between the sheets to my usual spot in the middle of the bed and sighing in relief at the ice pack she wrapped around my aching shoulder.

"You have a few of these," she observed with a touch of humor.

"I'm getting old. Holding a camera makes my arms ache sometimes."

"Thirty-one is hardly old."

I snorted. "Invasion of privacy again, Nightingale? Only fair I get to know how old you are then."

"Twenty-four."

Seven years younger than me. It didn't seem like such a vast difference.

Her hand ran through my hair. "How's the head?"

"Okay."

I reached out, pulling her down to the mattress. I tugged her closer and placed her hand to my chest. "How can I thank you?"

"No thanks are needed."

"Dinner," I pleaded. "Have dinner with me."

She bit her lip, worrying the plump flesh as she hesitated.

"Please. It would mean a lot to me." I added, grimacing a little as I tried to lift my head.

"Okay. But first you need to stay still and give yourself a chance to recover." Her hand came up, her fingers drawing through my damp hair again. "You need to sleep."

"Stay?" I asked softly.

"Until you're asleep. I'll let myself out. Will the door lock?"

"Yes."

I could feel myself being pulled under. Her soothing touch, the sound of her quiet voice, and knowing she was right there, relaxed me in a way I wasn't used to but I knew I wanted to feel again.

"I need your number," I mumbled, trying to fight off the sleep pressing down on me.

"I'll leave it," she promised.

"Good."

The mattress shifted as I rolled, wrapping myself around her. "Not yet."

Something warm, light, and soft touched my head. "I'm right here, Edward."

With those comforting words, I let the darkness claim me.

* * *

><p><strong>I think he is smitten with his IzzyB. Thank you for reading and your lovely comments. I read them all. Next update Friday.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**~Edward~**

Consciousness came gradually. I was warm, comfortable, and my pillow smelled good. Better than good. It smelled amazing. Like the scent you get when walking past a garden in full bloom in the summer; a mixture of many soft floral scents blending into one spectacular inhale of fragrance. Clutching it tighter, I breathed in deep again. My pillow was unusually soft as well...and slightly ticklish. With great effort, I opened my eyes, frowning when I saw my pillow was dark. Blinking, I realized it wasn't my pillow I was clutching, but thick, rich, soft hair. Pulling back a little, I was shocked to find IzzyB lying beside me.

No, not lying. She was curled up, much like a contented kitten, nestled into me with her head under my chin, one hand clutching my shirt and the other tucked under her own chin. Her hair had come out of its ponytail and was spread out around her—at least the tresses that weren't locked into my fist. I pulled back a little farther, unsure how she got there. I knew she'd been stroking my head when I fell asleep. Remembering how tired she looked, she must have fallen asleep as well and somehow ended up in my bed.

Not that I was complaining.

I couldn't remember the last time I had woken up with anyone in my arms. I also couldn't remember ever feeling this happy when I did—or this content. I wondered, though, how she was going to feel when she woke up.

As if sensing my thoughts, she moved, and I held my breath waiting to see what she would do. She was nestled so tight against me, my arms holding her closer than I had ever held another human being, and I was worried she would freak out when she woke up. I had to bite back the laughter as she stretched; her legs bending and flexing, toes pointing out. The hand holding my shirt loosened, lifting and curling, only to go right back into the same position. Her legs tucked up even tighter and she burrowed right back into my chest with a little sigh, relaxing once again into sleep, looking even more like a kitten than before.

Unable to resist, I loosened my hold on her hair and ran my hand through the curls, resting my cheek on her head, breathing her in. I knew she'd probably wake up in a few minutes and there was a good chance she'd be upset with herself, and even me, but until then I could hold her. I'd wanted to do that all night.

She inhaled with a soft sigh, shifted a little, then tensed up. I knew she was awake and now trying to figure out what was happening.

"Relax, IzzyB."

"Wh-what am I doing here?"

I tugged on her hair gently so her head tilted back. "Well, until a few minutes ago, you were asleep."

"But…how?"

I grinned at her. "Usually a person closes their eyes and unwinds. Sleep finds them."

Her gaze flew around, panicked, and she struggled to sit up. "I have to go home."

"Relax, Nightingale. _Relax_. Nothing happened. You fell asleep; that's all."

"What time is it?"

I glanced at the clock. "Almost noon."

"_Noon_? I'm supposed to meet my mother! She'll be so angry I'm late!"

I frowned. "You worked all night. Mrs. Cope said you worked extra hours the last couple nights. Your mother will understand."

She shook her head frantically. "No, she won't. She'll be disappointed. She's _always_ disappointed in me."

She was off the bed and heading toward the door, grabbing her purse and keys as she hurried away. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a tin of her cinnamon candies, struggling to open the container. She uttered a mild curse as she dropped the container, bending down to pick it up and taking one before she stood back up. I launched out of the bed, ignoring the pounding of my head caused by the abrupt action, and in a flash, I was behind her, drawing her back to me, wrapping my arms around her.

"Hey, IzzyB, calm down. You can't leave like this. You're trembling."

"I have to go."

I tightened my hold. "When you've calmed down. I'm not letting you leave when you're shaking so hard; you can't drive safely."

Her shoulders slumped and I spun her around, holding her tight. "It's just lunch."

"You don't understand."

"I want to."

She tilted her head back. "Why?"

I ran my fingers over her cheeks, cupping her face. "Because of this."

I gazed into her fathomless eyes. Never breaking her gaze, I covered her mouth with mine. Softly our lips met, parted and joined again. Brushed gently, touching lightly. I drew her bottom lip into my mouth, stroking the soft flesh with my tongue. She whimpered; a breathy little sigh that I felt in my soul. With a groan, I slipped my hands into her hair, pulling her to me. In this very moment, nothing else existed. Only her warmth, her sounds, and her sweet, cinnamon flavored mouth. Our tongues touched, stroked and teased. IzzyB's hands grasped my shoulders, then she flung her arms around my neck, holding me close. I wrapped an arm around her, moving her up, crushing her to my chest. I wanted to take her back to my bed, lay her down, and kiss her until she forgot about everything else but me—but us.

I knew, however, I couldn't do that; not yet. Slowly, I tempered the kisses, until they were gentle nuzzles of my lips against hers. I drew back, setting her feet on the floor, and enfolding her in my arms. "I want to understand everything."

"It's complicated. You might find me a lot of work."

"I think you'll be worth any effort."

Her reply was so quiet, I almost missed it. "I hope so."

I lifted her chin. "Go see your mother. Take care of what you need to do, then come back to me."

"Tonight?"

I shrugged. "If you're done in an hour, come back then. If it's tonight, then it's tonight. I'll be here."

"I need to get some more sleep after I see my mother." She grimaced. "If I can."

"You can sleep here. I'd watch over you."

Her inhale of air was fast. "Edward—"

I dropped another kiss on her sweet mouth and slid her purse over her shoulder. "Whatever you need, IzzyB. I'm here."

She shook her head and turned to go, then she glanced back, with a nervous expression on her face.

"I'll be here. Right here."

"Okay," she breathed.

Then she was gone, leaving me alone in a space that suddenly felt far too empty without her.

****MN****

By nine o'clock I'd almost given up. After IzzyB tore out of here, I realized she hadn't left her number. I had no way of contacting her and no idea if she would show up.

When the timid knock sounded at my door, I flung it open, visibly relaxing when I saw her on the other side, the nervous look back on her face. She also appeared completely exhausted. I reached out, dragging her into the room, wrapping my arms around her, unsure as to my strong reaction, but at this point not caring. When I felt her arms cling to my side and her long exhale of air against my neck I smiled; knowing she felt the same longing.

"I didn't know if you were coming."

"I shouldn't have." Looking up, she searched my eyes. "I shouldn't be here."

I slid my hand up her arm, over her shoulder and neck, to her face, running my finger over her soft cheek. "But you are."

"I had to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine now you're here." Leaning over, I shut the door behind her and flipped the lock. "You're staying." I paused. "Right?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "For a little while."

I kissed the top of her head and led her to the counter, lifting her up onto the stool, then sitting beside her. I poured the wine I had opened earlier, placing the glass in her hand.

"You got another stool?"

I smirked , because of course she would notice—my clever girl. "I wasn't sure you'd want to sit in my lap all night, so I got another one while I was out picking up some things, yes."

"You were okay to go out? How's your head?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing I can't handle. I'm fine. The drugs have helped."

She sipped her wine quietly, looking around. I had straightened up some and even made my bed—a rare occurrence. Since there was only ever me here, it seemed a waste of time, but I wanted it tidy for her.

"Hungry?"

"I don't want to bother—"

I shook my head, interrupting her. "You aren't a bother, IzzyB. I'm not a great cook, but I got a few things while I was out."

"While you were on your stool errand?"

"Yep."

I set down a couple plates of snacks I had picked up; cheeses and dips, some bread, and other munchies. "I didn't know what you liked…"

"This is great. Thank you."

As we ate, I studied her. The only word that came to my head was weary. She simply looked very weary. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A couple hours."

"How was your mother?"

"Annoyed."

"I don't understand."

She paused, her wineglass inches from her lips. The lips I'd wanted to kiss since she walked back in my door. "There are…expectations, Edward. When I don't live up to them, my mother isn't happy."

"You worked two nights in a row."

She smiled sadly, her fingers crumbling a cracker over her plate. "Actually five. My shifts are normally four nights on, three nights off. But I had to work an extra one because one of the girls was sick."

"Then why can't she understand you needed sleep? She's your mother for fuck's sake."

"It's complicated."

"I think I can keep up."

She pushed her plate away. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

I picked up a small piece of cheese, placing it on a cracker. I held it to her lips. "You've hardly eaten anything. Open up."

I waited patiently until her lips parted and I slipped the morsel in.

"I want to know all about you, IzzyB," I stated quietly as I dipped a slice of bread through the olive oil and balsamic vinegar I had mixed on a plate. I waited until she swallowed and held it up for her, smiling in satisfaction as she accepted it. I would happily feed her all night if that was what it took to make sure she ate.

"I may be far more trouble than I'm worth, Edward."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"I shouldn't even be here," she repeated, then paused. "I wasn't going to come back."

"I figured that out…but you did." I took a deep swallow of my wine. "Why?"

"I couldn't…I couldn't stay away," she admitted. "I tried, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I swore I'd only check on you and then leave. "

I stood up, cupping her face and kissing her, unable to bear one more moment without doing so. "Stop trying then," I murmured against her lips.

She shivered; the smallest breath of a sigh escaping her mouth as I kissed her. I rained light, whispers of kisses on her mouth, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, finally nuzzling her forehead. I wrapped her up close and rocked us both for a minute, before helping her off the stool and guiding her over to the chair. Once she was sitting, I fetched our freshly topped up glasses of wine, pulled up the ottoman, and situated myself in front of her.

"Talk to me."

She hesitated, so I gathered her hands up, kissing the soft knuckles. "Tell me, IzzyB."

"My dad died when I was nine."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't remember a lot, but I remember his hugs, his laugh, and the way I felt so safe when he was around. He was larger than life. Things were...rough on my mother after he died."

"But then?"

"My mom remarried a year later; an older man by the name of Phil. He was—is—very rich. My life changed. I was expected to act a certain way, be a little lady at all times. My mom changed as well—she became very…distant. She was never warm and open, like my dad, but she was still my mom and I knew she loved me. I guess when my dad died, it left us in financial trouble and marrying Phil solved that problem. She became exactly what he wanted: a trophy wife. She didn't laugh anymore or spend much time with me. She no longer could—she was _his_ first."

"Yours second?"

She shook her head. "A distant third—maybe even fourth. Whatever Phil deemed important became important to her too. Phil had a son; he was seven years older than me. He carried Phil's name, his blood. He was way more important than I was... and I was made very aware of that fact, right from the start."

My eyes narrowed in irritation at that fucked up statement. "I take it you didn't get along with Prince Charming?"

She shook her head. "No, actually, I adored him, and he me. He hated the fact he was doted on and I wasn't. He used to call me 'Princess' and said I should be treated like one."

I leaned forward and pulled her hands away from her pant leg, she was gripping tight. They were clutching the material so hard, I was certain she would tear the fabric.

"Do you still get on well?"

Her eyes grew larger in her pale face, then damp as she swallowed and cleared her throat, shaking her head again.

"No. He died." She drew in a deep breath. "Because of me, he died."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. Thanks to Midnight Cougar for her work. <strong>

**Update Tuesday. **


	5. Chapter 5

I pressed my wineglass to IzzyB's lips. She'd been silent for a few minutes, and I left her alone so she could gather her thoughts. After she took a few sips, I tipped back the glass and swallowed a large mouthful. After her last statement, I had a feeling I was going to need it.

"What happened?"

Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke. "I was ten; James was seventeen. I called him Jamie—he called me Princess. Phil hated that, but we did it anyway. He'd been, ah, in trouble a fair bit—drinking, acting out at school, that sort of thing. Phil grounded him and took away his car." She sighed sadly. "Poor Jamie had to listen to lecture after lecture from Phil." The ghost of a smile curled her lips. "He did such a wicked imitation of Phil. It was so funny. He'd come to my room, flop on my bed and tell me how much trouble he'd gotten into that day." She shook her head. "He was so tired of hearing how he had to be responsible and uphold the Dwyer name."

"Wait," I interrupted, "I thought you said your last name is Swan."

She nodded. "Phil never adopted me, so I never changed my name. He didn't believe in giving his name to someone who wasn't 'really part of his family.' "

I suppressed my urge to swear. What a cold-hearted bastard. I had a feeling I'd never like either of those two people IzzyB called her parents. They both treated her terribly.

"Keep going."

"I was at another girl's house for a sleepover. I didn't really want to go, but my mother and Phil made me. Audrey was the daughter of one of Phil's bigwig friends and she wasn't very well-liked, but they made me go anyway. I wasn't feeling well, and I called home to ask my mother to come pick me up. But she and Phil had gone out for drinks with some associates of Phil's, so Jamie said he'd come get me. I told him he couldn't because he wasn't supposed to drive, that Phil would be furious, but he said he didn't care. I was more important than his dad's stupid punishment."

Her hands began to fidget again, her gaze flying around the room. She drew her legs up to her chest in a defensive manner, and without thinking, I placed my hands on her calves, rubbing them softly. "There was an accident?"

"Jamie borrowed my mother's car, picked me up and we were almost home…when it happened. A car spun out of control in front of us. Jamie tried to avoid it, but they hit Jamie's side of the car." Tears dripped, unheeded, down her face. "He was killed instantly."

"_IzzyB_—"

"I was hurt, but survived."

"Thank God."

She shook her head. "It should have been me, Edward."

I gaped at her. "What? How the _fuck_ can you say that?"

"It was all my fault. I never should have called and asked Jamie to pick me up. I never should have had him come get me when it was raining. Because of my selfishness, he died and I lived."

"That is so fucked up."

"Phil told me over and over again. I should have been the one to die. Because of me, _his _son was dead."

"He was wrong, "I growled. "It wasn't your fault, IzzyB. You were a child. You were sick and wanted to go home. The only decent person in this whole scenario was Jamie; he came to get you."

"And died because of it."

"The other driver killed him. Not you."

She looked at me, pain flowing from her eyes. "That's not what I've been told for fourteen years. My phone call made him leave the house—it was my fault. I've been trying to atone for fourteen years."

"You have _nothing_ to atone for."

"Tell my mother and Phil that."

"I'm telling you." I stared at her aghast. "I think you actually believe they're right."

She began to stand up and I reached over, pushing her back in the chair.

"They. Are. Wrong."

"That's not what I've been told for all these years, Edward. What I've been trying to make up for; for the last fourteen years of my life."

_Make up for?_

"What do you mean?"

"Phil had no problem telling me it was my fault. My selfishness cost him his only child. He said I owed him."

"And how exactly did he collect on this debt?"

She shrugged. "By controlling my life. I had to be perfect. I was only allowed A's on my report card. There were no parties or dances and very few friends. My time was spent volunteering at places approved by Phil. The only after-school activities I was allowed to be part of were ones approved by him. And they were usually ones intended to make me more…suitable. Dance, language clubs, tennis—things to help make me better, in his eyes. I needed to be more graceful, a better athlete, smarter… My weekends were spent studying. If I went out, it was with them. The only people I associated with were those approved by Phil." She paused, her lips trembling. "And there weren't many of those. I think"—she cleared her throat— "I think if I ever showed any real happiness in a relationship, Phil removed that person from my life."

"You lived a solitary life."

"Very much so."

"And your mother? She did nothing to stop this?"

"She told me I was lucky Phil hadn't shipped me off to boarding school, or worse, divorced her. She was upset I almost cost her the lavish lifestyle she enjoyed."

Rage tore through me at the callous treatment bestowed on her at the hands of people who should have loved and protected her. Been grateful she hadn't been taken from them as well—not punished her for surviving it.

"How did you endure it all, IzzyB? End up where you are today?"

"I had a guardian angel."

"Sorry?"

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze unfocused as she gathered her thoughts. "An aunt of Phil's, Irina; Jamie's godmother actually. One of the most cantankerous, grumpy old women you'd ever want to meet—unless you truly know her. Jamie adored her and I do, too. She thought Phil's behavior was terrible and cruel. But she never let him know that, or how fond of me she honestly was. She used to have me come and stay with her—she'd tell Phil and my mother it was so she could be sure to keep an eye on me for their sake." She smiled fondly at some memory. "I always had such a good time with her. We'd eat bad stuff, go shopping, watch TV and talk about Jamie. I loved going there, but I never let them know it. I let them think it was like a punishment to me." Her eyes crinkled a little at some memory. "She played Phil so well—she'd say and do things…drop hints and make him think he was making a decision about me, when in fact she'd put the idea in his head."

"I knew I wanted to be a nurse; to help people. As I grew up, I also knew if Phil realized I wanted something, he'd make sure I didn't get it. Irina knew how much I wanted to be a nurse, how I longed to get out of that house and be on my own. She, ah, made it her mission to make sure I got both those things."

"How?"

For the first time since we started talking, a glimmer of mischief appeared. "Oh, she's crafty. She came for dinner one night and went on and on about some gossip she'd 'heard' about a girl my age. What a laughing stock her family was, because this girl had no ambition. No plans for school, was perfectly content to live at home and do nothing, not contribute to society." IzzyB giggled. "She let that sink in a little and then she looked at me, with such a disapproving look, even I believed her. She asked me what my plans were, and if I planned on living at home forever and sponging off Phil."

"And?"

"I sputtered a little and said I had no idea. Phil changed the subject, but a couple days later he handed me a stack of brochures, told me to make some decisions about my future. He had made a short list of acceptable careers." She smirked. "Irina had helped."

"Nursing was on the list, I assume?"

"Yes."

"I like her."

"She'd like you, too."

"Tell me what happened next."

"I chose a school as far away from their home as I could. Irina told Phil it would be good for me to learn responsibility, so I moved out of their home and into a small place close to the college. I had to work to pay for the rent and my expenses."

My hands tightened again in anger. "You had to work _and_ go to school?"

"My tuition was paid, as a loan. I was offered a full scholarship actually, but Phil refused it, saying I didn't need it, to give it someone who did; you know, it made him look good, but later I realized, it was because he wanted me indebted to him for a long time." She shook her head and sighed. "I was given an allowance and a place to live, but it wasn't enough for all my expenses—books, food, and personal needs; the rest I had to cover by working."

"Selfish, tight-fisted bastard," I hissed.

She shook her head. "No, it was worth it. For the first time since Jamie died, I had some freedom. I came and went as I pleased. I liked working and I met some great people. I could eat what I wanted and sleep in if I felt like it. I made sure to keep my grades up, attend every function I was expected to, and tell anyone who asked, how Phil was generously paying for my education."

"So what happened after you graduated?"

She frowned for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip. "Irina insisted they have a graduation party for me. Phil surprised me with the keys to a condo to live in close to the hospital. He made a big speech in front of all their friends there, about helping me start my life." She exhaled heavily. "It was all for show—everyone there was part of their circle, and again the gift was only to make him look good. I didn't want either one. But he had me exactly where he wanted. I had to repay him for the years at school and the places I could afford to live were pretty bad."

"So he's still controlling you."

"It's not forever. Another few years, my debt will be paid and I can move on. I've managed to carve out my own life in between their demands."

I shot her a quizzical look.

"I work, have some friends I truly like, and I live a quiet, peaceful life. I also still attend every function Phil tells me to, have lunch once a week with my mother, no matter how exhausted I am, and have brunch on Sundays with them at their 'exclusive club.' Everyone sees us, the well-adjusted family, eating together. Phil the benefactor, who forgave his step-daughter for her role in the death of his son and has supported all her endeavors." She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "I hate that part of my life—the parties and required functions. All the fake people."

"Why do you still do it? You're on your own now."

"Usually because of whatever cause it benefits. Jamie was always huge on giving back. In my own way, I do it to honor him. The rest I ignore."

Reaching over, I grabbed the wine and refilled my glass, as I thought about what she had told me. "How long do you think you have to atone for an accident that wasn't your fault?"

She looked at me, frowning. "Until I don't."

I shook my head. "You're so wrong about this."

"It's my life, Edward. Nothing's going to change it."

"I want to change it."

"You can't." She shifted, beginning to push herself out of the chair. "I shouldn't have come here, and I shouldn't have burdened you with all this. I need to go."

I tugged her back down gently. "No, I don't want you to."

"Don't you get it, Edward? You can't be part of my life; I can't be part of yours."

"Why?"

"My mother and Phil would never approve of you. They would make both our lives miserable. I'm not worth that aggravation."

I snorted. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that."

"They constantly push the 'right' sort of man my way. Ones they approve of."

"And I wouldn't fall into that category? Because I don't wear a suit and tie and I have tattoos? Because I'm not a member of their 'exclusive club'?"

She nodded silently.

"I can hold my own, IzzyB. I assure you my stock portfolio is impressive. I own this building, my checking account is large, and I'm pretty big stuff in my world."

"But you're not part of _their_ world, Edward. You're…a wildcard."

"I am. I like being a wildcard." I ran a finger over her cheek. "I don't care what they think of me, I care what _you_ think of me. Do you feel the same draw I do?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then don't shut me out."

"I'm scared… They'd never allow me to have you."

I leaned forward, rubbing her thighs with my hands as I stared into her wide eyes. "I'm not fucking asking for their permission."

She started to speak, but I laid a finger on her lips.

"Don't push me aside because of them, IzzyB. If you don't want this, that's one thing, but not because of them or anyone else."

I drew in a deep breath. "I'm not easy to take on. I'm moody, blunt, and demanding. I speak my mind and I go after what I want. I travel a lot—I'm gone for weeks at a time at the drop of a hat. I live out of a suitcase most of the time."

"Why?"

"I specialize in photographing natural disasters. I travel all around the world, often in very remote areas and I can be out of touch for days—even weeks. I do a lot of freelance stuff, but I also work for _Nature's Edge_ magazine."

"Wow. Is it…dangerous?"

"Sometimes," I answered honestly. "But I'm careful, and a professional, and the people I work with are, as well." I smirked at her. "But if you thought me being on a building ledge taking some pictures of boats sailing on the water was dangerous"—I shook my head and gave her a pointed look—"that was pretty tame, compared to what I normally do on a shoot."

"Have you been hurt?"

"A few times, but nothing I couldn't handle."

She was quiet for a minute. "Is this something you're going to do for the rest of your life?"

"No. You need to be young and able to keep up. My time is limited, but it is _now_. I'm at the top of my game, and it's not something I want to give up—yet. One day I will." I curled my hands around hers. "Is it something that would stop you from exploring this—whatever this is—with me?"

Her answer was a quiet hum in the air. "No."

"Your parents don't scare me. I don't care about what they think; I care about what you think. Can you handle that? Can you handle them?"

"I want to try."

Relief swelled in my chest. "Why don't we take it one step at a time? Get to know each other, before you introduce us? We can keep your lives separate for a while. " I snorted. "I'm not really that anxious to meet them anyway."

"I'd like that."

"So would I."

Leaning forward, I brushed my mouth with hers; soft, gentle strokes of our lips. She sighed into my mouth, her eyes fluttering shut as I slipped my hand around the back of her neck, burying my fingers in her hair, and slowly deepened the kiss. Her hands curled on my shoulders and I pulled her close, lifting and moving so she was on my lap. I caressed her tongue with mine; long, sensuous strokes that teased and promised more. Leaning back, I brought her with me, content right now just to hold her. She snuggled into my chest, her head fitting perfectly under my chin. I felt her yawn; her entire body shivering as she did so. I nuzzled the top of her head regretfully; I knew she had to be exhausted.

"You need to sleep."

She nodded, "I should go."

I tightened my arms. "Stay."

She tilted her head up, her eyes wide. "I—"

"Just to sleep. I promise." I cupped her cheek, my thumb rubbing small circles on the soft skin. "I liked waking up with you."

"I liked that, too."

"Then stay. You're too tired to drive. I'll worry about you too much."

I was shocked to see the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

"What?"

"Except for Irina, I'm not used to someone worrying about me."

I drew her to my mouth again, kissing her tenderly. "Get used to it."

She snuggled back against me, her arms wrapping around my waist. "Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>So...not much of a childhood. I'm pretty sure I know how you are all feeling about Renee. The line forms to the left. <strong>

**Thank you for reading. Update on the weekend. **


	6. Chapter 6

IzzyB clung to me all night, and I loved it. She smelled so good, her hair full and soft as I nuzzled into the thick tresses that tickled my nose when she tucked herself a little closer. She was wearing the T-shirt I'd given her; it was too long and big for her, making her even more adorable coming out than she had been going into the bathroom to change. She had shyly mentioned she didn't have a toothbrush and when I winked and told her to use mine, her cheeks darkened, and clutching my shirt, she fled behind the door.

I was, admittedly, a bit apprehensive—I'd never had anyone sleep here with me, and it had been a long time since I'd shared a bed with anyone for a whole night. A tent in the middle of nowhere with Seth or some other assistant didn't count—I never wanted to roll them over and bury myself inside their body, or hear them moan my name.

When she'd emerged from the bathroom, though, her skin glowing and looking nervous, it felt like the most natural thing to lift the blankets and let her slip in. I grinned like an idiot when I used my still damp toothbrush, somehow finding the fact it had been in her mouth sexy. I was glad I kept a spare pair of sleep pants on hand, since I wasn't sure what her reaction would be to my preferable state of dress when sleeping. Boxers were the norm, although I preferred to be naked.

And, I hoped, one day soon, to be naked in the bed with her—and not sleeping.

But for now, this was enough.

Her bare leg, wrapped around my thigh, was presenting a slight problem in the dim light of morning. She shifted, rubbing up against my aching cock, which was determined to get as close to her as possible. I tried to lean away, but she was like a magnet. I moved; she moved.

She had pulled at the neckline of my shirt a few times during the night, and I realized it was the one that always bothered me, too. I offered her a new one, telling her I would simply throw that one out, but she had asked for a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut away the offending collar, leaving it loose and hanging around her shoulders. Perhaps, judging from the exposed skin on her shoulder, a little too loose, but, I had to admit, I liked it.

With a sad smile, I realized this was probably the first time in years she'd been shown such open affection. Even in her sleep she had remained close, unconsciously seeking out our connection. She needed me touching her. Ignoring the pressing matter of my hard cock, I brushed a kiss to her forehead and whispered soft words into her ear. She relaxed enough, and I was able to slip out from under her.

I stood beside the bed, gazing at her sleeping peacefully—she was like my own Sleeping Beauty. Dark hair spilled over the white pillow, framing her sweet face; her tiny form looking lost but relaxed on the huge mattress. She pouted, her hands reaching out, and I shoved my pillow toward her, smiling when she burrowed into it, clutching the blanket I tucked around her shoulders. I frowned as my fingers traced the edge of the blanket close to me. It was thick and warm, but rather old and scratchy. I picked up the sheet, feeling it with the tips of my fingers. It was rather threadbare.

I pursed my lips, deciding perhaps a trip to the store was warranted. I hated shopping, but suddenly the need to make this place more comfortable for her was more important than my dislike of the activity. What was acceptable for me would _not_ do for her.

****MN****

I watched her sleep from the chair I had moved closer to the end of the bed, as I sipped coffee and answered some emails. In a stroke of brilliance, I checked a couple sites and found a high-end bedding store that had not only sold sheets and duvets, but towels and other household items as well. I planned on a shopping trip that afternoon.

I wanted her here, with me, and she deserved so much more than a mattress flung on the floor and threadbare sheets.

I sat up straighter when she stirred, her hand reaching out, searching. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed around, abruptly sitting upright, a look of panic crossing her face.

"It's okay, IzzyB, you're safe," I murmured, setting my laptop down.

Her gaze flew to mine and she scrambled down the bed, flinging herself off the end toward me. I caught her easily, grabbing her tight around the waist and sitting back down in the chair with her wrapped around me. "Hey," I soothed. "I'm right here."

I could feel her rapid heartbeat where our chests were meshed together. I gathered her hair away from her face, moving the heavy tresses over her shoulder so I could see her. "What's wrong, Nightingale? Tell me."

She moved even closer, inhaling deeply. I nuzzled the top of her head.

"I thought you were a dream," she whispered. "I thought I dreamed it all."

I smiled against her head. "No. It's real. I'm real. I'm right here."

"Good."

I slipped my fingers under her chin, lifting her face. "You might find after a while I'm more of a nightmare than a good dream."

"I doubt that. You're far too amazing, Edward. I can't even tell you how you make me feel—or how wonderful I think you are."

Her closeness and soft words were like a healing balm to my heart. They warmed and replenished the unused organ, making it beat a little faster.

I drew her face to mine, touching her lips. I only meant to brush, tease, and then pull away. But the second our flesh connected, it changed. Her hands gripped the back of my neck, holding me close. I buried mine in her wild hair, groaning into the warmth of her mouth. I explored her with my tongue, licked and stroked the inside of her sweet mouth. One arm wrapped around her, holding her tight to my chest. She moaned softly, tugging on my hair as she rolled her hips. Desire exploded in my body, lighting every nerve end, filling me with the need to be as close to her as possible. My cock roared to life under her, pressing up into her warmth. We kissed and rocked. Surged and ebbed. My control was rapidly spinning away and I knew in another few minutes I was going to throw her back on my bed and fuck her. Hard.

I slipped my hands into the waistband of her underwear, cupping the plump cheeks of her ass. I groaned and yanked her down hard on my aching dick. My fingers slipped closer to her warmth, the wet heat begging for my touch.

Then she stiffened in my arms and I knew I was moving too fast.

I pulled back from her mouth, dragging my lips to her ear. "You're not ready."

"Edward," she whimpered. "It's…"

Gripping her hips, I held her still, struggling to find my control. "I know. It's okay, IzzyB. It's okay."

I ran my hand up and down her back in long gentle strokes. I needed her to know I wasn't upset. "I want more for you. For us."

She let out a sigh of frustration. "Edward…"

I pressed a kiss to her head. "Soon, I promise. When we're both ready. Soon."

She groaned, dropping her head to my shoulder. "You make me feel things," she panted. "I want you…but…"

I chuckled. "Trust me, I feel them, too." I lifted her face, smiling at her flushed cheeks and the hazy stare. She was fucking gorgeous when she was turned on. I knew all it would take was one more kiss and we'd be right there again—one more stroke of my hand on her ass and I could have her under me, be buried inside her, but I had meant what I said.

She wasn't going to be a fast fuck and run to me.

I already knew this with every fiber of my being.

She was going to be so much more—and so worth the wait.

I stroked my thumbs under her eyes where shadows still lingered.

"You're still exhausted and my head's not a hundred percent. I'm not in any rush, IzzyB. I'm not going anywhere."

She wrapped her hands around my wrists, holding tight. "Me either."

"Then we'll take our time. Okay?"

She nodded. "How's your head?"

"Actually, it feels pretty good. Not dizzy, no headache." I ran my fingers over the bandage. "It hurts to touch it, though."

"Stop touching it then."

"Ha-ha."

"Can I look?"

"Sure."

Gently she peeled the bandage back, pursing her lips as she inspected the wound. I felt her feather-light touch briefly, and then the bandage being placed back. "It looks good. It'll hurt for a few days, but it's healing well."

"I had a great nurse."

She smiled and tried to move away.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought you might, ah, be uncomfortable," she replied, her gaze falling to my lap. My cock wasn't very happy right now—he was still hard and throbbing for her. He liked how she felt pressed down on him.

I grinned at her. "Ignore him. He'll go away…eventually." I handed her my fairly full mug. "Coffee?"

She took my mug with a smirk.

"I figured if you shared my toothbrush, coffee was also acceptable."

She took a sip. "It tastes even better now," she said, and all I heard was the husky tone of her voice.

"IzzyB…" I warned with a growl.

She had the grace to look ashamed, which meant she blushed—which only turned me on even more.

Ignoring the twitch in my pants, I rubbed her thighs as she sipped my coffee. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Usually I do laundry and any errands on day two."

"Day two?"

She nodded. "Day one I sleep a little when I get home, do the lunch thing with my mother, and have dinner with Alice if she's in town and has time."

"Alice?"

"She's my best friend. She owns her own boutique and goes away a lot on buying trips, and she's busy planning a new location. Plus, she got married a few months ago, so we don't see each other as much as we used to. I'm lucky to see her once a month."

"That happens."

She nodded. "She's opening up another store in Aspen, so I'm going to see her even less until it's up and running the way she wants. But she's happy, so that's all that matters."

I tried not to be too pleased that the absence of her friend would give me more time with her. Instead, I smiled as she continued her explanation.

"So sometimes there's dinner, and sometimes not, but I go to bed early. Then, day two is errands and stuff, and I always see Irina—sometimes more than once. If Alice isn't around I'll go to her place and we have grown up sleep-overs."

"Should I ask what that entails? I assume there're no pillow fights happening."

IzzyB snorted and covered her mouth. I chuckled at the very unladylike sound. "That's just a male fantasy, Edward. We don't really do that."

I shook my head. "Don't destroy the illusions, IzzyB. We men, as a whole, cling to them."

Giggling, she ruffled my hair. "Irina and I make martinis and finger food. We play cards or Scrabble and she fills me in on all the gossip. I love spending time with her."

"Sounds like fun. What about day three?"

"Day three, I can relax and have a full, quiet day since I know I'll end up going in early or doing something before my shift the day after. But I can't see Irina or Alice this week, since they're both out of town."

Good then, she was mine. That news pleased me.

"Can I convince you to do some shopping with me today?"

She smiled shyly. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

My finger wrapped around a stray curl resting on her shoulder. "I want you to come back here after as well, but I know now you have things to do."

She blushed, looking away.

I tugged the curl. "What?"

"I, ah, did them all yesterday, after my late lunch with my mother. In case…"

A huge grin spilt my face as I watched her cheeks darken more with her confession.

"In case?"

"In case you wanted to see me again," she whispered.

I chuckled and took the empty mug from her hands. "Good plan."

She gasped as I stood up, throwing her over my shoulder, striding across the loft. "Shower. Then we're going to do my errands and anything you need."

She was full-on laughing when I deposited her on her feet in the bathroom.

"I get you all day then, right?"

"If you want me."

I kissed her. Hard. Deep. Frantic. In seconds, I had her up against the wall, showing her exactly how much I wanted her. Finally, I drew back, panting.

"I want you. With me. Got it?"

Her eyes were wide—swirling pools of blue in her pale face. "Yes."

It took all the control I had to leave her in that bathroom alone.

_****MN****_

IzzyB looked confused as we went down in a different elevator to the parking garage below. "I have part of it blocked off," I explained. "Two different entrances. One for the building, one for me."

"Why?"

"The main floor is all businesses, which are usually busy. Plus there are a dozen other tenants in the lower part of the building. It's a busy spot." I paused and shifted my stance. "I don't like people touching my things."

"Oh."

"And I use part of it for storage."

"I see."

I pulled her along, stopping in front of my motorcycle. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at it and took in the size of it. "This is yours?"

"Yep. Hope you aren't against riding on one."

"You can't drive that."

"I drive it very well. I've never had an accident."

"Edward, you hit your head the other night and the roads are still wet, even if the ice has melted. You can't drive a motorcycle today."

"Well, then, we'll take my car. Seth dropped it off earlier."

"You shouldn't even be driving. If you'd stayed and spoken to the doctor, you'd know that."

I ignored her subtle scolding.

"How are we gonna get there?"

"My car."

"You're tired."

She snorted. "I'm not _that_ tired. I'm driving."

I pouted a little. I really wanted to feel her pressed up against me as we roared down the highway. "When can I drive my motorcycle?"

"Next week."

"Will you come with me?"

A strange look passed across her face, but she nodded. "If you want me to...although, I've never been on one."

Somehow that remark pleased me. I wanted to be her first experience for a lot of things.

"What kind is it?"

"A Ducati 999S."

"It looks…powerful."

"It is." I kissed the worried furrows on her forehead. "But, you're perfectly safe with me."

Her gaze was wide and trusting. "Okay."

"Okay. Today you can be the chauffeur."

_****MN****_

After giving her directions, we arrived at the upscale bedding store.

Inside, she looked around confused. "What are we looking for?"

I pulled her back to my chest, grazing her ear with my lips. "I want some sheets. Soft ones, so once I get you in my bed, you won't want to get out."

She tilted her head back. "You don't need soft sheets for that," she whispered. "If you're in it, that's all I need."

I groaned and covered her mouth with mine. I stroked my tongue with hers, losing myself in her taste, only breaking away when someone walked beside me, reminding me we weren't alone. I drew back, dropping another soft kiss to her inviting mouth.

Smirking down at her, I winked. "We need to move before I throw you down on one of these displays. I'm pretty sure what I want to do to you on that bed over there would get us kicked out of the store...and most likely arrested."

She giggled and cupped my cheek. "Probably."

I grabbed her hand. "Stop distracting me. Come and help me pick something out."

_****MN****_

I gaped at what seemed like hundreds of sheet sets—all various sizes, colors, and patterns.

"What do you like?" IzzyB asked, running her fingers over a sample.

"Um, plain?"

She chuckled. "Okay. White?"

"Whatever color you want. Just no…flowery, lacy shit."

She nodded and walked away, looking at the vast selection.

Leaving her to browse, I walked to the end of the aisle and saw another row of displays. Beds all made up with different sets of sheets and matching covers. I shook my head in wonder. I had no idea there was this much selection for something you used mostly in the dark. My gaze landed on a display that was slightly off to one side and I went over, already nodding. It was a massive bed frame and suddenly I had to buy it. All leather, tufted and thick, the curved headboard and footboard were connected with a padded runner and it looked like a giant sleigh. Given how I had watched IzzyB stumble more than once in an almost empty space, I could only imagine the run-ins she'd have when there was furniture there. The padded piece would help prevent bruising—or at least keep it to a minimum. The color shone a deep, dark, rich blue, and inspecting the piece I could tell it was well-made—the craftsmanship was amazing. It would look great in the loft. For the first time since moving in, I wanted to add to the place. Make it more comfortable.

It was exactly the kind of bed I wanted to see IzzyB stretched out in. She had told me how much she loved to read, and I could see her resting against the thick leather headboard, the color a beautiful contrast to her pale skin. I imagined her napping on the bed when she was sleepy after a shift—stretched out beneath me as I made love to her.

I wanted that bed.

I couldn't find a price tag, not that it mattered. I knew it would be expensive, but I didn't care. I went to find the manager. The owner of the store was there, so I spoke directly to her, flashing her my warmest smile.

She smiled back when I expressed interest in buying the bed.

"It's a great piece," she agreed and nodded. "The gentleman who made it was trying to start up a business of one-of-a-kind pieces."

"But?"

"It proved to be too costly, even for my clientele. He's coming tomorrow to take it away."

IzzyB appeared beside me, frowning as she listened.

"I want it."

"I think he plans on keeping it for himself. As I said, he's picking it up tomorrow. He won't allow anyone to dismantle it except him."

"I'll pay whatever price he asked. More if needed."

She gaped at me. "We have others that are similar. I'm sure you can find…"

I shook my head, interuppting her. "I want _that_ one. Do you have his number?"

"Yes."

"Call him. I'd like to speak to him." I sweetened the pot, knowing money talked. "I'll pay extra as a finder's fee."

It worked. Five minutes later, I was on the phone to Joseph, the creator of the bed. Twenty minutes later, not only had I purchased the bed, but he told me he had enough leather left to make up two matching stools and design a large chair for the space after I described it to him. It would be another spot for IzzyB to read in—another reason for her to be with me in the loft.

After making arrangements for him to bring the bed to the loft the next day, along with his sketches, I turned around to finding IzzyB staring at me.

"Are you always this demanding?"

"When I want something—yes."

"And you want that bed so much?"

"Yes."

She shook her head as I smirked at her. I bent lower, brushing her ear. "I want you, as well. In that bed."

Cue her blush. Chuckling, I ran my fingers along her soft cheek. "Have you picked some sheets?"

"No."

"You can't find anything?"

"I wanted to make sure you liked what I found."

I held out my hand, not wanting to tell her I really didn't care about the color, as long as she'd be resting between them. "Show me."

An hour later, we were climbing into her car again, the trunk and backseat filled with bags. The woman who owned the store was a great deal wealthier than when I walked in. I was now the proud owner of a silk-filled duvet, covers for it, as well as a couple of fancy pillows IzzyB seemed to like, and a bunch of sheets and towels I never thought I'd ever buy. But I had to admit, they were thick and soft, and I liked the muted colors IzzyB chose. It would make the space more comfortable. It would make her more inclined to spend time there.

And that made me smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Ah, Photoward. He is pretty determined to have her around. She seems pretty willing. <strong>

**Thank you for reading.**

**To answer a question that keeps coming up - we don't get back to the prologue til chapter 21. You have to read their story first. **

**So a while until we hit angst again. **

**See you Thursday!**


	7. Chapter 7

I smiled at IzzyB across the table, reaching for her hand. "Do you have things you need to take care of?"

"Not that can't wait until tomorrow."

"Can I keep you for a while longer then?"

"Aren't you tired of me yet?"

"Not even close."

She blushed as she sliced a bite of pizza with her knife and fork, chewing it slow. I was fascinated watching her eat. I'd demolished over half the pizza and she was barely starting on her second slice. She ate with precision, almost meticulously, each bite disappearing at an unhurried pace. She sipped at her ice tea the same way. Small, delicate little sips, the level in the glass lowering only a fraction with her swallows.

She looked up, embarrassed when she realized I was watching her.

She indicated the pizza. "You should have another slice."

I shook my head. "I already ate more than half."

"This will be it for me."

I sat back, frowning. "Is there anything you need to tell me? Do you not like food, or do you just eat really slow?" Remembering how little she had eaten the night before, I narrowed my eyes at her, suddenly worried she had some sort of eating disorder. She was certainly tiny enough. "Or something else?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "I was taught a lady eats like a lady, Edward. Slowly, and one is never rude or piggish."

"So, you mean, it's fine that I stuff my face and you don't?"

She shrugged.

I took her hand again. "Look at me."

Her wide gaze met mine. "I don't want you hungry. Do you understand?"

"I'm not."

I slid another piece onto her plate. "Then eat that." I took the last one and folded it in half, taking a huge bite, chewing and swallowing. "And by the way, _this _is how you eat pizza."

She giggled and I leaned forward, holding out the piece. "C'mon, IzzyB. Be a rebel. Take a bite—no utensils."

I quirked my eyebrow at her in a silent challenge. My laughter couldn't be contained when she took the slice from my hand and awkwardly bit into it, sauce and cheese spilling over onto her chin. She handed me back the slice, chewing and wiping her face with the napkin as she tried not to laugh with her mouth full.

"Tastes better, yeah?"

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her iced tea.

I winked at her.

"Suck it, IzzyB. A big, long, hard swallow. It's good practice."

Her eyes widened, with her lips wrapped around the straw, her cheeks growing redder every second.

I burst out laughing. She was so easy to tease. Her eyes were very expressive and I could read every emotion she was feeling in them. I was determined to start taking her picture this afternoon. I wanted to capture every expression I could.

She glared and swallowed the tea, setting her glass down with a thump. I struggled to stop laughing, grabbing for her hand again. "I'm sorry. I'll behave."

"Can you?"

I slid out of the booth and slipped in beside her. Before she could even ask what I was doing, I was kissing her. I plunged my hands into her hair, fisting it tight as I claimed her mouth. She whimpered, clutching my shirt in her hands as I kissed her until we were both breathless.

Leaning my forehead to hers, I tried to catch my breath. "You do this to me, IzzyB. You make me want to tease you. Get you to laugh. Laugh with you." I pressed harder. "I rarely ever laugh, yet with you I find myself doing it all the time."

"Oh," she breathed.

Slipping my fingers under her chin, and caressing the soft skin, I kissed her lips gently. "You make me want to buy sheets and towels and comfy chairs so I know you'll come to my place. You make me feel things I can't explain. Want things I've never wanted before."

"You hardly know me," she whispered. "How could I affect you like that? How do you know you want all those things with me?"

I shook my head. "I only met you a couple days ago, IzzyB, but I've been waiting for you all my life. Waiting for you to find me."

"_Edward_."

She stared at me, her eyes glistening under the lights.

"Am I scaring you?"

"No." She smiled, her lips quivering, eyes watery. "That's the part that does scare me. I feel…I feel the same way."

"Good."

I slid back over to my side of the table. I knew if I stayed beside her I would just keep kissing her and I wanted her to eat her lunch. All of it.

I ordered coffee and sipped at it while she resumed eating. Although she was still slow, she did at least pick the pizza up with her fingers. It was progress.

"So you go back to work Monday night?"

"Yes."

"Your schedule is set?"

"It changes every few months and the days move forward. This is the first time I've had entire weekends off. Next change I'll have Sunday to Tuesday off."

"You like working nights?"

"They're the hardest to fill, and I don't mind them." She smirked at me. "It's not forever."

I snickered at her throwing my words back at me.

"Friday is day one? Lunch with your mother?"

She nodded, her mouth full of pizza.

"Can I take you out on Saturday?"

She started to nod again, but then froze. Panic flared in her eyes and I frowned.

"What?"

She put down her pizza, wiping her fingers. "I'm done."

"Forget the pizza. What's wrong?"

"I can't go out with you on Saturday."

"Why?"

"There's a charity event I have to attend."

"Another command performance?" I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Yes," she answered in a whisper.

"What else?"

She didn't say anything, and she didn't look at me.

"IzzyB, look at me. Now."

Slowly her gaze met mine. "What else?"

"I have"—she cleared her throat—"a date."

My hands clenched, forming fists as I struggled to stay calm. "Cancel."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

There was that word again. I was beginning to hate it.

"I'm sure I can keep up," I spat out.

"I, ah, sort of have a boyfriend."

I felt as though I'd been sucker punched. "What the fuck?" I hissed. "You didn't think to mention that before now?"

She glanced around. "Please, can we talk about this in the car?"

I pulled some money out of my wallet and flung it on the table. "We can do better than that. We're going back to my place and you're not leaving until I know what the hell is going on."

I held out my hand. "Now, IzzyB."

She hesitated, but took my hand and let me haul her out of the restaurant. She didn't even argue when I plucked the keys from her hand and opened the passenger door for her. Not a word about my head, not driving, or anything else.

We both remained silent the entire trip home.

_****NM****_

She sat on the stool, watching me pace. Twice she opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand. Finally, I stood in front of her. Her teeth were buried in her trembling bottom lip, and she was even paler than normal, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against the pallor. I cursed myself for dragging her out shopping when she should have been resting and then I remembered why I took her shopping in the first place, and my anger burned a little hotter again.

"You sort of have a boyfriend, like someone is sort of pregnant? Is that it, IzzyB?"

"No. It's not like that. I shouldn't have said boyfriend."

"Well, you did. After we spent the morning picking out sheets for you to sleep on when you're here... _in my bed_. You dropped that line."

Her hand cupped my cheek and with a groan I leaned into her soft touch.

"Explain it to me."

"I told you my parents are constantly pushing suitable men, ones they approve of, on me."

"He's one of them?"

"Jacob is my friend. He's a doctor—a surgeon actually. A good one."

I really didn't want to hear a list of this asshole's attributes. "Well, bully for him."

"His dad and Phil are business partners. They've been trying to get us together since Jacob moved back here after medical school. We were constantly thrown together and we went out on a couple dates. He's a great guy."

"This isn't helping," I growled.

"Listen to me, Edward. He's a wonderful man. But he isn't the man for me. We're good friends. That's all."

"Then why did you call him your boyfriend?"

"Jacob and I let them think we're closer than we are. It gets them off our backs and we use each other for dates like for these events, or any dinners we attend where our families are going to be."

I narrowed my eyes at her, finding it difficult to believe any man would want to only be friends with her.

"It's true. Jacob isn't interested in settling down right now. He uses me as a cover, and he dates other women"—she smiled mischievously—"lots of other women. He just does it quietly."

I couldn't wrap my head around the fact he didn't want my IzzyB. It didn't seem possible. "He has no romantic interest in you?"

"No."

"Or you him?"

"I love him the way I loved Jamie. Like a brother. Nothing more."

"And you're seeing him on Saturday?"

"Yes. He'll pick me up, we'll make an appearance for a while, and once that's done, he'll drop me home."

"No one ever gets suspicious?"

"We talk and text sometimes so we know what each other is doing. Then if we're asked, it sounds like we're seeing each other. Sometimes, he'll come up and we watch a movie or talk for a bit. A couple times he's taken me to a bar or dinner and we purposely take our picture and he posts it on Facebook where he knows it'll be seen."

"Have you kissed him?"

She sighed. "Yes. I told you we went out a couple times."

"Did you like it?"

She shook her head. "There was nothing there—no spark." She took in a deep breath. "I didn't feel the way I do when you kiss me."

"Which is?"

"Like I never want you to stop."

"Good answer." I huffed, trying to still feel annoyed, yet finding my anger dissipating in the face of her explanation.

"How long ago was it you went out?"

"About seven months ago."

"So you've been fake dating him for seven months?"

She shook her head, looking up at me from under her lashes. "No, I played hard to get, so we've only 'fake dated' for about four months."

I could see her fighting a smile. She wanted me to smile with her and see how simple this was. Two friends helping each other.

"Was this your idea?"

"No, he suggested it. I thought it was a bad idea, which is why it took a while for me to agree. But he was right. My mother, Phil, and his dad backed right off. It's made things…easier for me."

"I don't like it. I get it…but I don't like it."

"I'm sorry."

"Why do they want you married off so badly?"

She shook her head. "Then I'm not their responsibility anymore, Edward. They know there's a good chance Jacob will move to another city at some point. They can ignore me completely then, because I'll be someone else's problem." She shrugged. "Out of sight, out of mind."

I crushed her to me, holding her tight. "You're not a problem or something to be given away! Stop thinking like that!"

Her arms held me snug against her. "Not to you."

I held her for a long time. When I pulled back, I stroked her cheek. "Friday night then? Or better yet, would you come here after your lunch?"

"I'll probably sleep."

"That's fine. I like to watch you sleep."

"Pervert," she mouthed with a grin.

"When it comes to you, definitely." I caressed the back of her neck, kneading the tense muscles. "But I can't wait until Friday to see you again."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm not sure I can wait until tomorrow."

"How will—"

I shook my head interrupting her. "We'll figure it out, IzzyB."

She nodded sadly.

"You don't have to go, do you?"

"I have things I need to do," she murmured, not sounding convinced.

"I know, but you said you got a bunch done yesterday. You could stay a little longer?" I asked quietly, running my finger along her jawline and down her neck, making her shiver. "Maybe go for a walk…have a nap?" I wanted to hold her once more.

I helped her off the stool, surprised when she wrapped her arms around me, staring up at me beseechingly. "Jacob is just a friend, Edward. Please don't be upset with me."

"IzzyB…I'm not." I barked out a humorless laugh. "Even if he wasn't, I have no right to tell you who you can or can't see. We've only just met." I ran my fingers through her dark hair, feeling the softness of it on my skin. "As much as I want to have that right, I know it's too soon."

"I'll cancel."

"No. You have to go and I assume he does, too. So you go together, the way you planned"—I pulled her flush to my chest—"as friends." I dropped a kiss onto her head. "Do you have any other dates planned?"

"Only one."

"When?"

"Two weeks away."

"And then?"

"The next one I know of isn't for a couple months."

I didn't make any demands. I didn't tell her she couldn't help out her friend. I resisted the urge to tell her she was mine now and the only person she could date—fake or otherwise—was me. She already had enough people in her life telling her what she should or shouldn't do.

"Can we discuss this again before then?"

She tilted her head back. "Yes."

"Thank you."

A shy smile curled her lips. "I don't really feel like going for a walk."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I'm kinda tired."

"Is that so?"

Soft color flooded her cheeks. "Yeah."

I drew her closer, my lips hovering over hers. "Maybe just the nap then?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

"Indeed."

* * *

><p><strong>So...enter Jake. <strong>

**Sorry this was late. A unexpected hospital visit and a bad day are to blame. Next update Monday. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

I walked around the room, gazing at the overdone opulence of it all, which included heavy, expensive linens and delicate china on the tables. The scent of the hot-house flowers that adorned the center of each of them hung heavy in the air. Trays of lavish delicacies were being carried around by waiters in tuxedos, then glanced at and refused by too-thin women and men far more interested in the contents of their drink glasses. I scanned the huge auction table laden with over-priced, decadent items not needed by a single person in this room, yet knowing each item would be bid on zealously, only to be forgotten once it was acquired.

It was all done in the name of charity.

I skirted the room, knowing I shouldn't be here—but I couldn't stay away. I hadn't seen IzzyB since she left my loft on Monday after a long, warm, one-big-cuddle nap, and I was aching for a glimpse of her sweet face.

Tuesday, I had received a call from my boss, Emmett, telling me about a hurricane approaching Thailand, and I had flown out that night. I hadn't been able to see her again before I left; barely even had the chance to call and tell her I was going.

I spent several days capturing the devastation of the small villages hardest hit by the event. Most of the areas were still inaccessible, but the ones we'd been to had been heartbreaking to witness. I wanted to stay longer, but they wanted the pictures immediately, so we traveled hard and fast, documenting what I could.

I flew back today, arriving in town only a few hours ago. My only contact with her had been the occasional text when I was somewhere I could get access to internet, which was rare. There was always a sweet message waiting for me when I was successful. Simple ones: _be safe—I miss you—thinking of you_, yet the words meant so much.

I went home, got cleaned up, and came to this event, hoping to see her, even if it was a mere glimpse. The ticket had been hard to come by, but I had told my business manager to do whatever it took to get it for me, and he had come through.

Seeing the money spent on the decor alone here, made me shake my head. The money could've been used so desperately for real needs. Thinking of what I had just seen—the suffering and devastation I had witnessed, knowing how little relief those people would receive—made me angry.

I located the table I was going to be at after sweet talking the woman at the table and getting her to move me to a table where I could see IzzyB. All it took was a little flirting and a donation check to find out her table number and get moved to a closer one. Well worth every penny.

Grabbing a double scotch, and dodging around the overdone women and the men all looking as if they'd rather be anywhere else but here, I found her.

Standing in the shadows, I drank her in. Small and delicate, she looked so out of place; it made me adore her even more than I already did. Standing among the black and beige palette around her, she was like a burst of sunshine in the midst of a dark storm. A dress that seemed to float around her, in the colors of a sunset, left her shoulders bare and swirled as she moved. Her hair hung down her back, a mass of curls I wanted to bury my hands in while I kissed her perfect mouth. Beside her was a woman, who was no doubt her mother. She was an older, taller version of IzzyB, without her warmth. More than once I saw her reprimand IzzyB, and not once did she smile with any fondness at her daughter. I had the feeling IzzyB's choice of dress didn't please her mother, since more than once, she glanced down at her dress and the more her mother spoke, the more uncomfortable she appeared to become.

Her husband, Phil, was equally as dour. Even the fake pleasant expressions when they would greet other people were strained. I wondered what would happen if either of them truly smiled.

I assumed their faces would crack.

Mrs. Dwyer said something else to IzzyB, and her shoulders fell in defeat. I was about done with this bullshit. I knew she didn't know I was here, and I knew striding over there and pulling her away from the cold people she referred to as her parents, was going to cause her even more grief, but I couldn't stand the way she was folding in on herself. I wanted to yank her into my arms and kiss her until she smiled the way she did in my loft.

I set down my glass and started to move forward, coming to a halt when a tall, dark-haired man appeared in front of IzzyB. Her relief was obvious when she smiled at him, accepting his embrace easily. He held her briefly, speaking quietly to her.

My hand gripped the back of the chair as I saw the familiar way he cupped her cheek, kissing it gently.

I could only assume, the infamous great-guy-just-a-friend Dr. Jacob had just shown up.

He shook Mr. Dwyer's hand, air-kissed her mother's cheek, then wrapped his arm around IzzyB's waist, ignoring everything and everyone else around them as he conversed with her, his head bent low over hers.

My eyes narrowed as I watched. His arm held her possessively. His stance beside her was predatory.

Just a friend.

_My ass. _

_****MN****_

I glowered through the entire dinner. The people at my table gave up trying to include me in any conversation and left me alone. I could see IzzyB's table clearly and watched the interactions the entire time. She was virtually ignored, even by her so-called boyfriend. Rarely was she included in the conversations, and if she was, her answers were short, mostly due to the fact someone—usually Phil or another man—would interrupt and talk over her.

I wanted to go over and tell them all to shut the hell up and let her speak. She seemed so small and vulnerable among the stiff bodies surrounding her. More than once I saw her hand press against her collarbone in what I thought must be a defensive gesture. She hardly ate; her gaze often focused on her plate, and throughout the entire meal she wore a distant smile. On occasion, Jacob would converse with her, lowering his head to listen to whatever she had to say, but even then she seemed so removed from the rest of the table.

My hands clenched watching her. She was a ghost to all of them. Did they not see what a special, wonderful woman was sitting in their midst? She wasn't a cookie- cutter, younger version of all other women around her. She was unique and special.

I hated seeing her like that . At the hospital, she had a quiet confidence to her manner. When she was with me, she was shy, but open. She smiled and laughed easily and I found her clever and endearing. Here among the people she had known most of her life, she folded into herself; trying hard to be accepted, she lost what made her so special. She lost herself.

Jacob leaned back, his arm draped casually around the back of her chair as he focused his attention on the man beside him instead of her. He was deep in discussion over some point he was trying to make, but his fingers played with the skin of Bella's bare shoulder. I saw her shift away more than once, obviously not wanting his touch. I smirked to myself. When I caressed her skin, she leaned into my touch, not away.

I couldn't take it another second. I pulled out my phone and texted her, hoping she had her phone with her. She had told me she always carried it wherever she went and left it on, in case she was needed at the hospital.

I wasn't the hospital, but I needed her.

_**Hello, my Nightingale.**_

I watched her head bow and she fumbled with something on her lap. I grinned when I knew she was taking her cellphone out of her purse. She quickly typed backed.

_**Hello, my daredevil—Are you somewhere safe?**_

Her first instinct was to make sure I was all right. I wanted to kiss her.

_**Yes. Perfectly safe. Back to the land of communication. No more dare deviling right now.**_

_**Good on both counts. **_

I grinned, knowing she would try and keep her answers short so no one would comment on what she was doing.

_**How's your dinner?**_

_**Boring.**_

I smirked as I typed a reply.

_**Can I do anything?**_

_**I think you're too far away. I miss you. When are you coming back?**_

My breath caught in my throat. I needed to get her alone.

_**You don't have to miss me anymore. You look beautiful.**_

Her head flew up, her gaze scanning the room and for the first time in days, our eyes met. Her hand flew to her collarbone, again and as the light glinted off the chain, I realized she wasn't just doing it as a reflex.

She was wearing my necklace.

I had found it the first day I was in Thailand, waiting for transport to take us out to the affected area. I had spotted it as I wandered through the market, the significance of the nightingale bird hanging from the silver links too perfect to pass up. The tiny emerald in its chest was the best part—more than once she had told me she loved the color of my eyes. I sent it to her via courier, paying an exorbitant fee to get it to her quickly, wanting her to have a reminder of me while I was gone.

She kept clutching at it because I had sent it to her and she was seeking our connection, even when we were apart. I blew out a deep lungful of air. She needed me as well.

One word came back to me.

_**Please**_.

I stood up, typing as I left, heading for the terrace at the back of the room. I knew she was watching me.

_**Tell them you have a headache. Go get some fresh air. Come to me.**_

_****MN****_

I was anxious waiting on the terrace for her to join me. Time seemed to drag on, but when I checked my watch I saw it had only been five minutes. I tamped down the need to go back into that unfriendly room and drag her away—I knew she needed to excuse herself in a fashion that didn't draw attention to her exit, or she would be followed.

I heard the door open behind me and turned, relief flooding through me at seeing her. She looked around, hesitating. I stepped away from the shadows and seconds later she was in my arms. Holding her, I moved quickly behind the decorative shrubs. Her breath was hot on my neck, her voice shaking.

"You're safe. " She pressed her lips to my neck. "Thank God, you're safe."

I kissed her head. "I'm fine, IzzyB. I'm right here."

"How?"

"I missed you. I couldn't wait."

She clutched me tighter. "I missed you too. So much, Edward."

I held her tight, completely overwhelmed by the feelings she brought forth in me.

"How did you settle into my heart so fast, Nightingale?" I murmured into her hair.

She tilted her head back, her eyes bright. "You did the same."

Light caught the heavy silver of the chain around her neck. "You got my gift."

Her finger caressed the metal. "I love it."

"I love seeing you wear it."

"I haven't taken it off since it arrived."

I ghosted my fingers along hers on the metal. "I saw you touching it tonight."

Her smile was shy, her eyes nervous as they met mine. "I keep touching it, because I knew your hand was on it. It made me feel closer to you."

I inhaled sharply. "Can I kiss you, IzzyB?"

"Yes, please."

My mouth covered hers, and I pressed my tongue inside her warmth. She tasted of the red wine I watched her sip, and cinnamon. She always tasted like cinnamon. I groaned as our tongues slid together, exploring and reacquainting themselves. Her hands clutched my waist and when she shivered I opened my jacket, wrapping her in my warmth, never breaking away from her lips. I was like a dying man in the desert and her mouth was the sweet nectar of life-saving water. Deeper and deeper we drowned, lost to the world around us. It was only the click of the door opening that startled us out of our kissing haze. I stepped farther back, taking her with me, pushing her face into my chest protectively.

"Shhh," I whispered into her ear.

"Isabella?" a male's voice called out.

She stiffened in my arms and I drew us back, receding into the thick branches and shadows. She moved herself closer to my chest, her hands tightening on my waist.

A few seconds past and I heard the click of the closing door. I waited until there was only silence, then I peeked around, ensuring we were once again alone. I looked down at her; the moment passing, our bubble broken.

"Your date is looking for you."

"He thinks I'm unwell. He'd want to check on me."

I didn't care what he thought or what he wanted. I knew what I wanted.

"I want you to come home with me."

"Edward—"

Bitterness tinged my voice. "I know. He's your _friend_."

She pulled back, looking anxious. "Yes, he is. I told Jacob I had a headache. I'm sure he'll take me home early."

I snorted. "I'm sure he'd be happy to."

"What?"

"Your _friend_ wants you, IzzyB."

"It's not like that with Jacob. I told you."

"Maybe not for you, but he's not telling you how he _really _feels. It's so obvious, even you should see it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The way he looks at you—touches you. He thinks you're his."

"He's only doing it—"

I interrupted her. "He's doing it because that is what he wants, IzzyB. He wants you to be his. He wants more than friendship with you." I blew out a breath and gritted my teeth. "I know. I saw it with my own eyes."

She shook her head. "You're wrong."

"No, I'm not," I growled, unable to help myself. "He wants what's mine."

She rubbed her temples, her eyes narrowed in frustration. "Stop this," she pleaded.

"What? Stop telling you the truth? You're in denial over this and his true intentions."

A chime ran out from her purse and we stared at each other in the dark.

"Your boyfriend, I presume."

"He's not…" She stopped and shook her head. "I have to go."

I nodded and stepped back, feeling angry and frustrated. This wasn't how I planned on our reunion going. "Of course you do."

"Edward, please," she whispered, cupping my cheek.

I yanked her back into my arms, brushing my lips over her head. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and jealous and I shouldn't have come here. I wanted to see you so bad I couldn't wait." I sighed into her hair. "I didn't think how seeing you with him would affect me." I pressed another kiss to her skin. "I'll go. Wait here a few minutes, then go inside."

"You're leaving?"

"It's for the best. I'm sorry, Nightingale."

She huffed a sigh. "You're wrong about how he feels. We're only friends. We're just helping each other."

I leaned my forehead to hers. "I hate seeing him touch you."

"It means nothing to me."

"I still don't like it." I stepped back, preparing to leave and hating the fact I had to do so. She reached out, clutching my arm.

"Do you…still want me to come to your place?"

I cupped her face and kissed her again. My mouth claimed hers; hard and demanding.

"Yes, of course I do," I insisted. "I'm an ass, but I still want you to come to me."

"I will. I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Will you stay the night?"

"I'll stay as long as you want me to."

I kissed her again, softly this time.

"Then forever starts now."

* * *

><p><strong>Pictures of her dress and necklace on my group page. Thank you for reading. Next update Friday. <strong>


	9. Chapter 9

I paced the floor, unable to relax or even sit. It had been two hours since I left IzzyB at the benefit and I hadn't heard a word from her.

I ran my hands through my hair in vexation. I had actually sent her back inside, then slipped back in through another set of doors I discovered, in case anyone was watching. I saw her easily in the crowd, sitting at her table—the dress she was wearing catching my eye. She was talking to Jacob, her hand lifted, gesturing toward the door, and I had assumed she was asking him to take her home.

Then she could come here—to me.

But I was still waiting.

Had he convinced her to stay? Had she thought about it and decided I was out of line with my jealous behavior and wasn't coming?

I glanced at my silent phone. Would she at least let me know?

My gaze fell to the new bed that had been assembled in the corner—my thick, comfortable mattress now set into the rich leather form. I had been meeting with the designer when I'd gotten the call to leave town and he'd not only set up the massive bed, but left the sketches of the chair and stools I asked him to design.

The sheets and towels were still in bags on the floor, not yet unpacked or ready to put on the bed. IzzyB had lectured me thoroughly about the chemicals in new sheets and towels and how they had to be washed before being used. She told me horror stories about allergic reactions and problems people had who ignored the labels and warnings. By the time she finished, I swore I wouldn't sleep on them until they'd been laundered. I didn't tell her I was sure I'd never bothered before. For tonight, the old sheets would have to do.

I wanted to see her in that bed, her hair spread across the pillows as she slept. I wanted to see how her pale skin showed against the vivid blue of the headboard and the muted sheets she had chosen. I wanted to know she was curled up in that bed, safe and sound, if I wasn't here. Then when I came back, I wanted to be able to smell her on those sheets.

A quiet knock had me racing to the door and flinging it open, startling IzzyB with the quickness. She stepped back, her hand flying to her throat. I lunged forward, almost dragging her inside and slammed the door behind her. I lifted her into my arms, burying my face in her neck, holding her close. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she ran her fingers through my hair gently.

"IzzyB," I whispered, "I was afraid you weren't coming."

"I was delayed. My cellphone died just after your texts," she sighed. "I guess I was so busy, I forgot to plug it in."

Then she giggled; the sound light and sweet in my ear. "I didn't think I should use Jacob's to send you a text."

I walked over to the kitchen, still holding her in my arms and set her on the counter. I leaned back a bit, but didn't release her from my embrace. "Afraid of what I'd do if I got his number?"

She shook her head, all teasing gone. "No, I didn't want him to have yours. I…I don't want any of them to bother you, Edward."

Her soft words made my heart beat faster. She was trying to take care of me. "I'm a big boy, Nightingale. I can look after myself."

"I know."

I moved back frowning, noticing for the first time she was still in her fancy dress. "Have you not been home?"

"No. I went to Jacob's to talk, then I came here directly."

I swallowed the instant flame of jealousy I felt at the thought of her being in his place with him, alone. My voice was tight when I spoke. "He drove you here?"

"No, I took a cab. I was hoping you'd still be up."

"Of course I am. I said I'd wait for you." I stroked my thumbs under her eyes, not liking the faint shadows that seemed to be there all the time. "Did you get any sleep today?"

"A couple hours."

"You're sleeping in tomorrow."

"I have brunch with my parents."

"Cancel."

"I—"

"You need your sleep."

"I can't sleep all day, Edward."

"You could if you stayed here."

"I have to work tomorrow night."

"Why?"

"I traded shifts."

"You can stay here until you have to go."

She giggled, picking up the skirt of her gown, letting it fall back down in waves of brilliant sunshine. "And go to work in this?"

I lifted her off the counter. "Let me get you some clothes and then we'll go to bed. I'll plug in your phone and you can text your parents and say you're not coming. I'll take you home early enough you can change."

"I have to go, Edward. Especially after tonight."

I snorted as I reached into the dresser, grabbing her the T-shirt she'd cut up and some boxers that were too small on me now. At least they wouldn't fall off her when she moved—not that I'd object to that. And I really liked how the shirt hung off her shoulders.

"Are you in that much trouble for wearing a pretty gown? Do they really object to you looking different than all the bland women who were there this evening?" I rolled my eyes. "It was like a fucking Stepford wife meeting."

I thought she'd smile and nod, then tell me she had to go and make amends. What I didn't expect were the words that came out of her mouth.

"No. I have to go and talk to them. I want them to hear the news from me."

"What news?"

She drew in a deep breath. "I told Jacob I couldn't do this anymore. I…I broke up with my fake boyfriend, Edward."

_****MN****_

I waited for her anxiously while she changed, her words echoing in my head.

She "broke up" with Jacob. Told him she couldn't pretend anymore.

Everything in me prayed it was because she had the same intense draw to me as I had to her—that she didn't want anyone in her life except me.

She came out of the bathroom looking utterly adorable in my old shirt. I patted the bed next to me, lifting the covers so she could be warm as we talked.

I wrapped my hand around hers. "Tell me."

It was a minute before she spoke. Her eyes were trained on our hands, her fingers tracing over my bruised knuckles. She bent down, brushing her lips to the discolored flesh so tenderly, my heart skipped a beat.

"I just can't do it anymore, Edward. The constant demands and the disappointment I see on their faces. Nothing I do is right or good enough." She sighed quietly. "I knew my dress wasn't what my mother would want me to wear, but I thought it was so pretty and I liked it so much…"

"You were beautiful."

She tilted her head back. "You're the only person who said that. Even Jacob asked me if I had worn it only to piss off my mother." She shook her head. "I wore it because I loved it—the colors and the flowy fabric felt like _me_. She never likes what I wear, though, so I figured it didn't matter. Last week the dress I wore was simple and black—Jacob told me I looked like an old woman and my mother said it was plain and dreadful, so this time I wore what I liked. Alice had it in her shop and I loved it. She insisted I take it and wear it tonight."

I lifted our hands and kissed the soft skin inside her wrist. "You should always wear what you want, IzzyB. Act the way you want to. Do what makes _you_ happy."

"They don't think so."

"They're wrong."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're perfect—just the way you are."

She shook her head. "I'm not perfect, Edward. I don't want to be on a pedestal, either. I'm just…me."

I held her hand to my face. "I know you're not a perfect person. But all your little imperfections, all the things you think you have to change, make you perfect for me, Nightingale."

She drew in a shaky breath. "Thank you."

"What did great-guy Jacob think about being fake-dumped?" I smirked, trying to make her smile, and frankly very interested in his reaction.

No matter what the bastard told her, he wasn't faking anything. He wanted her—and he wanted to control her the same way her parents did. He just covered it better.

"He wanted to talk, so that's why I went to his place. I felt I owed him that at least."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. I told him I realized it didn't matter what I did, it was never going to be enough, or good enough. I was tired of living for everyone else and trying to make up for something I could never make up for—no matter how long or hard I tried. And using him only made me feel worse. We were both lying." She took in a deep breath. "He asked me if there was someone else."

"And?" I asked quietly, feeling tense as I waited for her reply.

"I told him yes. I'd met someone and I wanted to explore it."

"He didn't like that, did he?"

Her gaze flittered around and she bit her bottom lip, not answering.

I cupped her cheek, turning her face to mine. "Did he do anything?" I paused. "Tell me the truth."

"No, he didn't touch me."

"He said something?"

"He didn't like it, and said he didn't understand why I didn't see you quietly until I made sure it was going to work out, and then we could discuss ending things. He seemed to think whoever I was interested in wouldn't stay interested in me very long."

"Well, the fucker is wrong." I inhaled deeply. "Did you tell him about me?"

She shook her head. "I'm not ready to share you yet."

"Me either."

"Jacob asked me a favor."

"What?"

"There's a function at the hospital on Thursday. He asked me to go with him, so I switched my shifts and go to work tomorrow and have that night off. Jess owes me a favor and she was happy to have tomorrow off. His father and my parents are going to be there."

"Did you say yes?"

"Yes. I'm going to tell my parents tomorrow that we've decided to only be friends, but I'm going on Thursday to show my support—as his friend."

She smiled softly. "Besides, Irina will be back from her latest trip. I haven't seen her in a month."

"Will she sit at your table?"

"No." She shook her head. "She, ah, doesn't like Jacob. Never has. She'll sit at another table." She smirked. "Or I should say hold court at another table. She's very…entertaining."

I liked that woman more and more with everything I heard about her.

"As long as I make it through brunch tomorrow," she added.

"Are you really that nervous?"

"No, whatever happens, happens."

"Do you honestly care what they think? Will it change your mind?"

She shrugged. "No, not particularly. They're going to be disappointed at some point. I might as well get it over with."

"Then what?"

She looked at me, her eyes wide, with a vivid blue gaze that was all at once soft and determined. "Then I start living my life—for me."

"Can I be a part of that life, Nightingale?"

"Edward," she breathed, "I missed you so much while you were gone. It felt like a part of me was missing."

"I felt the same."

"You are my life now," she whispered. "I need you."

I gathered her close, wrapping myself around her as I slid down in the bed. Our mouths met in a series of long, deep kisses. My tongue sought out her sweetness, reveling in her taste. A long shudder racked her small frame and I held her tighter, pulling back from her mouth, dragging my lips over her skin to her ear. "I need you too, IzzyB. More than you know."

"Edward," she whimpered.

"You're mine now."

She nestled against me. I could feel her exhaustion in the heaviness of her limbs. "Sleep, my Nightingale."

"I want to know all about what happened when you were gone."

"I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

Her voice grew softer. "Even where you got those bruises?"

I brushed a kiss to her head. "Yes."

"Were you in danger?"

"No."

"Were you careful?"

"Go to sleep."

"Were you?"

"Yes. Ms. Bossy. I was careful."

"Good."

Running my fingers over her cheek, I smiled at her protectiveness. "I have extra reason to be careful now. So I can come home to you."

She nodded, her eyes serious. "Yes."

"I liked your texts."

"I didn't like not being able to talk to you," she admitted softly. "Why don't you have a satellite phone?"

"Seth had it—my track record with one isn't good. They have a habit of going over cliffs or getting dropped into fast moving rivers." I sucked in a deep breath. "To be honest—I never thought…I'm not used to having someone worry about me, IzzyB. Or think about calling someone while I'm gone. I'll get better at staying in touch when I'm away."

"I don't expect daily calls—just let me know you're okay. Even a one word text when you can, if you don't want to call. That's all I'm asking."

"I will."

She yawned and I pulled the blankets tighter around her. "Sleep now."

Like a kitten she curled up, tucking her hand under her cheek.

"IzzyB—"

"Hmmm?"

"The hospital benefit—what's it for?"

"To raise money for more equipment for the Pediatric Ward. Why?"

"Just asking."

She curled up closer, her head on my chest. I ran my hand up and down her back; long, slow strokes meant to relax her. She grew heavier, the hand clutching my shirt relaxed and her breathing leveled out. My mind was too full to sleep yet.

An idea was forming.

I was well-known. My photographs drew a lot of attention and commanded a tidy sum. It was a worthwhile cause. A very worthwhile one.

Perhaps…

I should get in touch with the organizing committee. Offer something as an auction piece. Be there at the event to autograph it—personally.

I could meet a few people. Introduce myself.

I thought of IzzyB's parents and their bored, cynical expressions earlier this evening.

I was well-off. Successful. Well-connected and respected. All things they liked.

But, I was blunt, outspoken and already disliked them for the way they treated my girl. And how I earned my money and my lifestyle, they wouldn't approve of at all.

I didn't care.

Not to mention the ink that covered my arms—IzzyB had told me how much they disapproved of body art or anyone who didn't conform to their narrow-minded world.

Wait until they got an eyeful of me.

We were going to hate each other, but they were going to have to get used to me.

Because I wasn't going anywhere.

As far as I was concerned if they walked away from IzzyB, her life could only get better.

And if they stayed, they were going to have to deal with me when they treated her bad. I was putting an end to that shit.

They were going to have to learn respect was a two-way street.

She needed someone to protect her.

That someone was me.

* * *

><p><strong>Bye-bye Jake. Take charge Edward is in da house. He could protect me anytime - just saying. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you Midnight for your beta work. <strong>

**Next update on Tuesday.**


	10. Chapter 10

"Stop taking my picture."

I smirked, but set down the camera on the table and picked up my coffee cup. "Stop being so fucking adorable and sexy when you sleep, then."

She sat up; her hair a dark cloud around her face. She glared at me sleepily, then she dragged the shirt back up her arm. "I highly doubt my drooling is sexy."

"Your snoring is, though."

"I don't snore!" she gasped.

I winked at her. "I'll never tell."

She tossed her hair, pretending to frown at me, which made my smirk wider. She tried so hard to be tough, and failed miserably at it. She _was_ far too adorable.

"What time is it?"

"Relax, Nightingale. It's barely eight. You have lots of time."

Her shoulders loosened. "Okay."

"I still think you should cancel."

"No. I want to tell them…today."

I leaned forward, studying her. "Why is it so important to do it today?"

She bit her lip and glanced around the room, color blooming in her cheeks. She looked...worried. I sat back, opening my arms. "Come here, IzzyB."

She scrambled out of the bed, dragging the blanket with her. I resisted the urge to smile again. She was like a child coming to confess her sins.

Except when she curled up against me, she was anything but a child. She was warm and curvy. Her softness molded into my hardness, meshing perfectly. I loved how she felt wrapped up in my arms.

"Why today?" I asked again.

"I'm afraid if I tell you, you'll think less of me."

"Impossible."

She leaned back, her head resting on my arm. Her eyes were wide and worried.

"Just say it."

"Appearance is everything to them. We'll be in public," she confessed quietly.

Understanding dawned on me. "They won't make a scene."

She shook her head. "They'll express their displeasure and let me know how much I've let them down, but it will all be done very civilly." She shrugged. "Then once they've discussed it, they'll summon me to let me know in private how disappointed they are in me."

I shook my head in frustration. "They shouldn't be disappointed. All you're doing is what is best for you. Your life. Not theirs. I wish..." I stopped myself from finishing that statement.

"You wish what?"

"I wish they would get the fuck out of your life."

She didn't get upset by my words. She only shrugged. "They may wash their hands of me soon."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

IzzyB's eyes were filled with sadness. "She's my mother, Edward."

I stroked her cheek. "I know. I'm sorry. I hate to see you so worried about what should be such a different conversation. They should support you." I snorted. "They should never have made you feel as though you had to do this in the first place. I hate seeing you hurt."

Turning her face, she kissed my palm.

"Why did you think I'd think less of you?"

"Because I'm taking the easy way out. Or at least, delaying the inevitable."

"I think you're brave and wonderful. I also think you're finally getting to the point you need to do this—it's time you live for you." I paused. "I didn't know Jamie, but I think he'd want that for you."

She curled into me tighter, her head burrowed in my chest, and I held her tight, knowing she needed my closeness and support.

She'd needed that for a long time. I'd give it to her anytime she asked.

****MN****

Before I drove her home, she helped me wash the sheets and make up the bed. Watching her effortlessly stuff a king-sized duvet into the cover and smooth it out without even breaking a sweat was amazing. She laughed as she watched me try to imitate the way she smoothed the sheets in place and fluffed the duvet on the end of the bed, standing back and admiring her handiwork. She made me move the bed twice until she was satisfied it was "in the right place." I didn't care, but it made her happy. I had to admit it looked good—and very inviting. So inviting, I tackled her onto the smooth sheets and kissed her passionately as we rolled around the large mattress, totally messing it up. When she finally escaped my clutches, her eyes were happy and she giggled as she looked at the mess, scolding me and shaking her finger, trying to look serious.

I propped myself up on my elbow and smirked at her. "I like it better like this, Nightingale."

"Why?"

I picked up a pillow and inhaled. "The sheets smell like you now." I grinned as her cheeks became pink. "I imagine this is how the bed will look after we make love. Messy and perfect." I arched my eyebrow at her. "And smelling like _us_."

Her eyes widened and she turned, running to the bathroom, leaving me laughing at her reaction.

When she emerged, damp and clean, her hair neatly plated into a long braid down her back, she was still wearing my T-shirt and a pair of sweats I found for her.

She was quiet as I drove her in my car, knowing not to push the motorcycle issue today. The closer we got to her place, the tenser she became. When we pulled up outside, I undid my seatbelt and turned to her. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No!"

"I will."

Her expression softened. "I know you would. But I have to do this on my own."

"Will you call me when you're done?"

"Yes."

"Will you sleep later?"

"Yes."

"Call me first?"

"I promise."

I leaned over and held her face between my hands. "If you need me, text or call. I'll come get you, no matter what."

"Thank you."

I brushed my lips to hers. "Anything, IzzyB."

She slipped out of the car, her brilliant gown clutched in her arms, wearing my clothes and a pair of high heels. She looked odd and utterly perfect.

I hated to see her walk away.

By the time I got home, I had a return call about the benefit on Thursday. They were beyond ecstatic for my last minute contribution to the live auction segment of the evening and were thrilled to have me be part of the event. They offered me a place at one of the donor tables, but were more than happy to accommodate my request to be sat at the same table as Irina Denali, as well as provide me with an extra ticket for another table. I decided I wanted to meet the one person who seemed to care about IzzyB.

Then I got to work on the item I'd be donating. As I skimmed through my photos, I paused on one I had taken of IzzyB this morning. She was curled up against the headboard on her side, her hair fanned out all around her, her face not even visible. She was wearing the T-shirt she had cut up, and it was so loose, it had fallen away. The curve of her shoulder, the hint of her rounded breast in contrast to the vivid blue of the bed and the dark of the sheets, was an erotic visual. Scarcely visible, were the five freckles that were high on her shoulder forming a small 'V'; small flecks of dust on the white of her skin. The sun was just rising, the sky outside the windows still gray.

Remembering one of my favorite photos, an idea struck, and for the next while I worked, layering and highlighting until it was exactly the way I envisioned it in my head. When it was done, it was the perfect symmetry of the two. A photo of twilight settling over the ocean, the waves rushing to the shore, with the washed out, barely seen image of IzzyB drifting though the sky, the dark waves of her hair dipping in the ocean, diffused stars scattered around her. The layered effect of the clouds had captured my eye the night I had taken the picture and now they were like the blankets that covered her. With a few more touches I brought out the freckles in the shimmering light my camera had captured.

I called it: _Sleeping Angel_.

And I knew it would bring a high price.

I'd make sure of it.

_****MN****_

When she called she sounded exhausted. Her voice was weary; although she assured me she was fine. No matter how I pleaded, she refused to let me come and get her, insisting she was going to sleep. Brunch, she told me, had gone exactly as she thought it would. She was informed her decision to stop seeing Jacob was a mistake and they were disappointed in her selfish actions. I wanted to hang up, and go find them and show them precisely what selfish actions looked like. I'd hold up a mirror and let them talk.

I stopped arguing; deciding she'd probably been doing nothing but arguing for the past few hours, and told her I would call her tomorrow.

However, I was there when she left for work, waiting outside her building, my car warm and my arms open. The way she flung herself into my embrace let me know my decision was a good one. I held her tight and let her talk as I drove slowly, grateful when we pulled up and she sat with me until the last possible moment. She thanked me softly when I told her I would pick her up in the morning. I knew she had to be exhausted when she didn't argue. The next morning, she didn't say anything when I drove her to my place and handed over her favorite cut-up shirt. She smiled and shook her head at the sheets I had hung over the window by the bed, wanting to at least offer her some dim light to rest. I tucked her into my bed and spent the day working on my computer, watching over her. I was furious when her phone went off and I grabbed it, lowering the volume so it wouldn't disturb her. It went off multiple times throughout the day, and my mood got darker every time it did. Jacob and her mother were the two persistent callers.

Were they that obtuse? She worked all night. She worked again the next two nights. How did they expect her to sleep when they kept calling her? Did they have no concern for her well-being at all?

I shook my head. Of course they were—in fact they were more that obtuse. They were selfish.

My fingers pounded on the computer, and I stepped into the hall when I needed to make calls, ordering things that were suddenly imperative.

Blinds for all the windows. I had measured them and now I wanted them up. She needed darkness to rest comfortably.

Some more shirts in my favorite brand, that were soft and she could wear when she was here.

Extra socks—fleecy ones. Her feet were always cold.

Some of her favorite cinnamon candies which were surprisingly hard to find. I ordered a full box of them.

When she woke up, I didn't argue about taking her home once I made sure she had eaten something. I repeated the pattern again that evening, the only difference being, I stayed up most of the night installing the blinds I had ordered. That was one of the perks being the owner and only tenant living on the top floor of the building. No one complained about the music I blasted or the sound of my drill as I hung them, one by one, until they were done. Simple, white, wood slats I could leave open when I wanted and pull tight to diffuse the daylight so IzzyB could sleep. I was rather proud of my handiwork and grateful for places like Home Depot. One day I'd replace them with something more permanent, but for now they worked.

When I arrived at the hospital, she was waiting. She slipped into the car, immediately leaning over for my kiss. I nuzzled her lips, holding the back of her head securely.

"You look tired," she observed.

"I was awake most of the night." I grinned. "Busy."

"You should drop me home and sleep then."

I lifted her hand, kissing the knuckles. "I plan on sleeping beside you today, IzzyB."

"Oh." That was the only word she uttered, but her smile was bright.

It was even brighter when she saw the blinds and she shook her head in disbelief.

"Why?"

"For you. So you can sleep."

"I can't sleep here every day, Edward," she reminded me gently.

I pressed an object into her hand I had picked up at Home Depot. She looked down at the large, shiny keys in her palm and her gaze flew to mine.

"Anytime, Nightingale. Whether I'm here or not. You're welcome to be here. Day or night."

"Edward—"

I shook my head. "Anytime. The larger one is the front door—at least for the times the lock isn't broken—the other one is for the loft." I pressed another item into her palm. "This pass is for the garage. You can park in there beside me—you'll be safer. Use the private elevator—you know the passcode already."

I closed her hand around the keys and pass; silently begging her with my eyes to accept them. Accept me.

She smiled and lifted them, giggling at the little keychain that had a camera on it. I showed her how it worked as a flashlight if she needed extra light to see the keyholes. I was thrilled when she slipped it into her purse, after grazing my cheek with her lips. I handed her another T-shirt, apologizing for the threadbare condition. I winked when I told her I'd been too busy to wash the other one. She'd bought me too many damned sheets to wash.

We moved around, quietly comfortable with each other. She nibbled at the toast I made her, talking about some of the happenings in the ER the night before, making me laugh with her imitations of a groaner who, it seemed, never stopped.

"All for a sliver." She shook her head and snickered. "You'd think we were cutting off his arm."

She smirked at me over her shoulder as she walked away. "He was worse than you."

I laughed at her teasing. I was an awful patient—I knew that, but it had gotten me her. Well-worth it, I'd say.

She paused by the side of the bed and turned to me.

My breath caught in my throat. Standing there in the morning sun, she was an incredible vision. The light behind her highlighted the curves beneath my shirt, the thin material showing the dusty outline of her nipples straining against the tight material. As she lifted her arms, gathering her hair into a ponytail, the shirt rose up, exposing her hips. Tiny straps sat low across the bones and a red triangle nestled between her legs—small, lacy scraps of material that passed as underwear.

A hiss escaped my mouth, and my cock hardened at the sight of her sensual beauty.

She froze as I pushed off the stool and stalked toward her. I stood in front of her so close our chests were touching, her nipples hardening into pebbles as I pressed closer. "You're so sexy," I murmured. "Standing here in the light, in my clothes, beside my bed." I ran my fingers up her bare thigh. "I want you, IzzyB."

Her breath began to come out in small gasps as my fingers edged higher, barely brushing the lace I had seen. "I've never seen anything sexier than you are, right here, right now."

"You think I'm sexy?"

"Maddeningly so."

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her to me, letting her feel what she did to me. Her eyes widened and her hand tightened on the material of my shirt she was holding in her fist.

"I'm not a virgin," she blurted out.

I laughed low in my throat. "I'd hardly expect you to be." I rubbed my nose against hers affectionately. "I'm not either," I murmured, dragging my lips across her cheek to her ear.

"I don't have a lot of experience, though."

"We can work on that." I tugged on her soft lobe, smiling as she moaned quietly. "You just have to tell me what you like. Show me how to please you."

"That's the problem, Edward."

I leaned back, frowning. "I don't understand."

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When I say I don't have a lot of experience, I mean with any of it. I can't tell you what pleases me, because…

I don't know what pleases me."

* * *

><p><strong>Heh. I wonder what his reaction is gonna be to that statement? Update on Saturday. <strong>


	11. Chapter 11

"What are you talking about, IzzyB?"

She flung her hands in the air in complete exasperation. "How can I tell you what I like when I don't know?"

I narrowed my eyes, my voice becoming low. "What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

She paced around the room like a small, caged animal. I followed her movements as she moved, back and forth, her steps rapid. She paused by the window, staring out into the morning light. I could see her reflection in the glass around her—she was biting her lip, one of her hands drumming out a restless rhythm on the window sill, while the other one fisted into her hair. All signs of nervous tension for her.

I wasn't sure why she was embarrassed over my question. I wanted to please her. I wanted to know what she liked.

She pivoted on her heel, barely meeting my gaze. "I've only ever had sex twice, Edward. I didn't really like it either time, so I have no idea what I like."

I blinked at her. She'd only had sex twice? This beautiful, sexy woman had only had sex twice?

"Impossible," I breathed.

Her cheeks flushed. Not the soft, petal pink blush I was used to seeing on her cheeks when I would tease her, or kiss her unexpectedly. This was the color of embarrassment—IzzyB's embarrassment.

"You know how sheltered my teens were. I didn't even have a real boyfriend until I was in college."

"A lot of people start late."

"You didn't."

I shifted uncomfortably. "No, I didn't. Trust me, if I could, I'd go back and change some of my behavior, but I can't." I ran my hand along the back of my neck nervously. "Besides, we aren't discussing me. We were talking about you."

"My first time, with my boyfriend, Ben, wasn't enjoyable."

"I don't think any woman's first time is," I agreed. I tried to keep my voice even. I hated_, loathed,_ the thought of her with anyone else, but I had to ask. "But you tried again?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing into herself. "We did. We tried a few days later. But I think he was so afraid of hurting me, he treated me like spun glass—as if I would shatter any second. It hardly felt as though he was hardly touching me, and I wasn't, ah, ready…and, yeah. It wasn't good." Her shoulders slumped forward. "And we broke up not long after the second time. He said it wasn't anything to do with what happened, but I'm not stupid. Who wants to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't respond to you that way?"

She turned back to the window, her next words almost too quiet for me to hear. Almost. "I'm pretty sure you'll feel the same way, Edward."

My heart ached for her. She was certain of my rejection. Between the way her parents second-guessed every decision she made, loudly criticizing her, and how her jackass of a boyfriend treated her, she had no confidence. Not to mention the "fake" relationship she'd had with Dr. Jacob. She had no idea how truly sexy she was.

"Nightingale," I called quietly. When she didn't respond, I stepped forward. "IzzyB—look at me."

Her shame-filled eyes met mine—everything about her screamed defeat. Her tiny form looked even smaller than normal the way she was folding in on herself.

I shook my head. I wouldn't allow that to happen.

"Your so-called boyfriend was an idiot," I stated flatly. "Obviously he had no idea how to please you and instead of manning up and doing something about it, he walked." I snorted. "He probably had as much experience as you did and didn't want to say that out loud."

She frowned as she looked at me. "He had other girlfriends."

"Was he your first boyfriend?"

"No. I had one other in high school. It wasn't much of a relationship—not at that age. I was too young and naïve for that and with the restrictions I had, well, it never really had a chance." She shrugged self-consciously. "As I said, I didn't have a lot of experience."

"So, _Ben,_ he was the first man you slept with?"

"Yes. I wasn't ready before." She shrugged and sighed. "I don't think I was ready then, either. But he kept at me."

"Maybe it was the same for him."

Her eyes widened. "I never thought of that. He never said—he kept pushing…"

I waved my hand. "Of course he didn't say anything." I smiled softly at her. "Of course he kept pushing, IzzyB. I mean, look at you."

"What?"

"He wanted you, my girl. The same way Jacob does."

She shook her head. "He's never really tried anything like that with me. I just assumed…"

"You assumed wrong. He was just playing the game. Trust me, he wants you."

I drew in a deep breath, moving closer. "I want you—I want you so fucking much, I ache with it."

"What if…"

"Don't even think like that. You're right—you weren't ready. He wasn't the right man for you. Neither was Jacob."

"And you are?"

"Yes," I stated firmly and with conviction. "I am."

"I don't know anything."

"I'll teach you."

"I don't..."

"Don't what? Tell me," I demanded.

"I don't want to be treated like glass all the time."

I laughed; the low sound rumbling in my chest as I shook my head at her. "I don't plan on it. When I make you mine, you're going to feel it; I promise you that."

A small whimper escaped her lips. Her chest was heaving rapidly, her color high again, but this time it was the soft petal color I loved. It tinted her cheeks and swept down her neck, covering her chest. I wanted to know how far down that color went—if her skin was warm when my tongue dragged across the surface. If I could make the color deepen the way her eyes were darkening as she looked at me.

"There are so many things I want to do with you," I assured her and licked my lips as I stared at her, my voice husky. "To you."

"What do you want to do to me?" she whispered, her voice quaking.

I stepped behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her back to my chest. I trailed my fingers up her arm, ghosting along her skin. Small goose bumps broke out, pebbling the surface as I dropped my head down into her neck, kissing and swirling my tongue on the softness. "I'm going to explore you—everywhere. I'll touch and discover every part of you. I want to know what makes you gasp, what drives you to distraction. I'll find what I can do to make you groan and beg me to take you. I'll know your body better than you do." I drew her skin between my teeth, biting and sucking. "I want to kiss you…taste you everywhere." I slipped my hands under her shirt, teasing the soft skin of her stomach and side, stroking upward until my hand cupped her breast lightly. "I bet you taste different all over. Sweet some places"—I dropped my hand down, running it along the edge of her waistband—"musky and tangy others."

She moaned as her arm reached up, her hand clasping the back of my neck, fingers tugging on my hair. Her back arched, pushing her breast into my palm, nipple puckering as I kneaded and teased the firm flesh, and she breathed my name, the sound raspy in her throat.

I lowered my hand to between her legs, listening to her breathing pick up as I cupped her warmth. I could feel the blazing heat of her through the fabric—the dampness telling me, without a doubt, how right I was for her. Grazing my lips over to her ear, I whispered, "I want to lick you 'til you scream my name, IzzyB." I stroked her with my finger softly. "And you will scream."

"Oh_, God_…"

"No, God won't be there," I growled. "But I will." I pressed my finger against her harder. "I want my face between your legs. I want to fuck you with my mouth. I want you to come all over me, riding my fingers and my tongue." I bit down on the skin at the nape of her neck, knowing I would leave a mark. My mark.

"Then," I promised her, releasing her flesh with a small flick of my tongue, "I'll drive into you so hard you'll see stars. I'm going to fuck you so passionately—we'll end up on the floor. I want you to take me—take all of me, and when you're finally done—when I've fucked you so much you can't take it anymore…I'll keep going until _I'm_ done."

I stepped back, pulling my hands away. She stumbled forward, and I caught her around the waist, bringing her back to my chest. She was trembling, her body shaking, her breath coming out in small gasps. My cock was hard and aching, my body tense with the desire to do all those things I told her, to feel her against me, to taste her. She moved back, both of us groaning as I surged up against her ass. "_That_, IzzyB, is what I'm going to do to you." I dropped a heavy kiss onto her head. "I promise you—the first time. Every time. You'll know who you belong to."

I spun her around so she was facing me. Her eyes were wide, dark with so many emotions swirling in their depth. Frowning at the little flicker of fear, I cupped her chin, raising her face to mine, dropping my head as I nuzzled her lips. "I'll never hurt you though. I'll only do what you want."

"I know."

"I can be gentle, too," I vowed to her. "I want to lay you on my bed and make love to you while the storm rages outside. I want to touch and caress you until you forget everything but us. Until all you want is me. I want to bury myself inside you for hours and watch you come."

Her eyes softened, melting into pools of blue water.

"We're going to be amazing together. Whether you want me to fuck you hard, or make love to you in the slowest, sweetest way possible, I _am_ the right man for you."

I dropped another kiss on her mouth. "When you're ready, my girl. When you're ready."

I moved away, the physical act of separating from her painful. I made it a few feet when she whispered my name. "Edward."

I turned, forcing a smile to my face.

"I'm on the pill," she said quietly.

I nodded in understanding. "I'm clean, IzzyB. I get tested all the time, and it's been a while for me. When you're ready, we're both good."

In a move I didn't expect, she launched herself at me and I caught her, stumbling back to the bed, holding her tight to my body.

"_Now_," she pleaded. "I want you now. Teach me, Edward."

We sunk to the mattress, our mouths fused together.

She _was _ready.

Thank God.

I tore her shirt off, the material ripping under my hands easily. Between us, the rest of our clothing disappeared, some pieces pulled off intact, others torn and thrown away—littering the room around us.

Her skin was as soft as I knew it would be. It tasted sweeter than I imagined. I stroked and caressed her, fanning the flames until they ignited into an inferno within her. I trailed my fingers over her, following them with my mouth. I smiled at her gasps, soothed her shudders and learned how to make her quiver and beg for me.

I lay myself out for her, watching with hooded eyes as she explored and learned my body. I encouraged her explorations, pleading for her touch, which grew bolder as we both lost ourselves in the vortex we created. Her hot mouth tugged on my nipples, her tiny hands stroked my aching cock and her body shook with passion as she watched my reactions. Sitting up, I pulled her back to my mouth, praising her, whispering how much I wanted her, how sexy she was. I lowered her down and explored her again, parting her thighs and finally sinking between them, tasting her for the first time.

She arched as my mouth touched her, gasping when my tongue swirled and lapped. She wrapped her hands in my hair, pulling on the strands, as she whimpered and undulated under my mouth. I growled, her reactions as much of a turn on as the act itself, and slipped in two fingers, massaging and stroking until she began to pant and cry out.

"Come for me, baby. Let yourself go…"

She stiffened, her muscles clamping down, and screamed my name. I gentled my mouth, riding out her orgasm, slowly trailing kisses over her skin as she calmed. Sitting back on my heels, I pulled her forward, my hands gripping her hips, brushing the heat of her with my aching cock.

"_Now_, IzzyB. I'm going to make you mine now."

Brilliant, yearning blue met my dark green. Desire raged in her gaze.

"Yes."

I buried myself in her.

Hard.

Deep.

We both shouted.

I stilled, our gazes locked at the overwhelming intensity of the moment. "I told you I wasn't going to treat you like glass."

She whimpered, her hands reaching for me.

I withdrew and slammed back into her. She tightened her legs. I thrust again, and her eyes shut, her back arching. Her breasts jutted out, her nipples stiff and still red from my mouth. I groaned her name and surged forward, everything else around me ceasing to exist but how she felt. Her wet warmth gripped my cock as I thrust, fucking her—loving her—showing her how right we were together. I took her the way I told her I would—powerfully and completely, forever marking her as mine. The room spun, sweat dripped down my back as I hovered over her, my body telling her everything I wasn't ready to tell her yet with words. Her orgasm was beautiful to watch—the utter bliss on her face as she cried my name, her voice hoarse and needy. Her pussy contracted around my cock, her nails digging into my shoulders, as she shuddered and quaked around me.

I buried my face into her neck, continuing to move until my world erupted in a blaze of screaming pleasure so hot I felt as though I was burning alive. I gasped her name, kissing her with everything I had. I poured every ounce of passion into her, giving her all of me, until there was nothing left.

I collapsed beside her spent body, my chest heaving. Unable to bear being separated from her, I wrapped her up in my arms, kissing and nuzzling her soft hair, whispering her name over and again.

Gradually, we calmed. I never stopped caressing her—she never released the way she clutched me. When she shivered, I drew the blanket around us, pulling her close again. I felt her relax into me, her body growing heavier with sleep.

"Mine," I whispered my breath blowing over her cooling skin.

"Yours," she replied.

Nothing, and no one, was going to change that.

Ever.

* * *

><p><strong>So... yeah. Ahem. There you go. <strong>

**Update on Wednesday. **

**I have to go do more research. **

**Yeah. That's it. Research.**


	12. Chapter 12

We both slept. Wrapped around each other, neither of us could let go. Even when I woke up, the afternoon sun high in the sky, desire raging in me again, I refused to move or disturb her. Instead, I watched her sleep, felt her warm breath on my skin, reveled in the rightness of her touch. I didn't know how I was going to let her go later in the day.

I couldn't be without her anymore.

Slowly she woke; blinking, soft and sweet. Her gaze was shy, but filled with so much tenderness, I ducked my head and covered her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply. She wound her hands into my hair, pulling me close, and within seconds we were lost—the world outside, ceasing to exist.

There was only my Nightingale and me.

We sunk into the mattress, not a breath of air between our bodies as our kisses became deeper. Longer. More. Hard, pumping heat rushed through me. Everything became magnified. The feel of her skin on mine as our chests slid together. The erotic noises she made as we moved. Her wetness that teased my aching, yearning cock.

My teeth found her rapid pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat and I bit down, hissing in satisfaction at her low moan. Her fingers clawed at my back, pulling me closer. I slipped into her warmth and stilled at the powerful pleasure of being buried inside her. Our gazes locked and held, and an intense tenderness flooded my chest. I moved with long, deep thrusts that made her whimper and arch under me. I couldn't pull my lips from hers, my tongue needing to be in her mouth. We shared oxygen, our united touch more important than air.

Like a heavy-moving storm cloud, my orgasm rolled through my body, gathering strength and erupting with a fiery brilliance. I held IzzyB close, rocking as she shuddered and screamed my name, the sound held within my lips.

Reluctantly we moved apart, separating back into two halves, both of us knowing we'd only ever be whole again with each other.

I tucked her into my side, breathing her in, every sense attuned to her. It was as if my entire world was contained in my arms.

It was too soon and too fast. I knew it. But I had seen how quick life changed, moved and was gone. So I said it anyway.

"I love you, IzzyB."

Her sigh was warm on my chest. "I love you too, Edward."

_****MN****_

I awoke again, my arms holding soft warmth. But it was too soft. My eyes flew open, staring at the pillow I was clutching. I sat up panicked, only relaxing when I found IzzyB sitting in the chair, wrapped in the fluffy duvet, smiling at me.

"You're very sexy when you sleep."

I stretched, letting the sheet fall, resting over my hips. "Is that so?"

"I love your tattoos."

I glanced at the swirls of ink on my arms. "I'm thinking of a new one."

"Oh?"

I traced my finger over my heart. "I think I've found the perfect design."

She blushed, already knowing without me telling her.

I'd wear her on my heart. I'd etch her into my skin, because she was already under it, living within me.

I sat up, swinging my legs over the mattress. They hit the floor with a dull thud, the sheet slipping even lower. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

"I needed coffee."

I eyed the cup in her hand. "You gonna share, Nightingale?"

In silent offering, she held the mug out, and I stood up, dragging the sheet with me, slowly wrapping it around my waist. Her eyes followed every flick of my wrist, lingering on the heavy bulge already growing as I looked at her. Her long, dark hair flowed around her bare shoulders, her blue eyes lit with desire as she watched me. The deep indigo of the duvet set off her creamy skin. Skin, I knew was smooth under my tongue and tasted sweet, like her. I sat down on the ottoman, taking the cup and drinking deeply. The hot beverage was laced with her favorite flavor—cinnamon, and I liked it. With a grin, I drained the mug and placed it beside her.

"I said I'd share."

"Yep."

"You drank it all," she pouted.

"I'll get you more…after."

"After?"

She gasped as I reached under the duvet and grabbed her hips, pulling her out of the chair and flush to my chest. I wrapped the duvet around us both and kissed her hard, my tongue seeking the warmth of her mouth. I lifted her, pushing the ottoman out of the way and lowering us to the floor, covering her with my body. She tore the sheet away from my hips, wrapping her legs around me. I groaned at the slickness of her. "So ready for me, baby."

"_Edward_—"She gasped as I moved against her.

"Told you," I groaned, tugging on her ear lobe.

"Told me what?" She panted.

I smiled into her neck. "We'd end up on the floor."

_****MN****_

"I have to go."

I held her tighter. I knew she did. I needed to drive her to work soon. She'd never made it home. She had a spare uniform in her locker at work and I couldn't let her leave me today.

Right now we were cuddled in the chair, wrapped in the duvet. After making love to her on the floor we curled up, talking. I told her stories from Thailand and other interesting places I'd been. Some of the things I'd seen—both beautiful and tragic. Some images I knew I'd never forget and would never share with her, while others I could speak of with fond memories. She had asked quietly about my family, and I blew out a heavy breath before answering her.

"_My parents died when I was young. They were…free spirits. We were always traveling and exploring."_

"_What happened after they passed?" she whispered, holding my hand tight._

"_My Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Peter took me in."_

"_Did you not get on with them?"_

"_No, they were great. But I was a lot to take on, IzzyB. I was angry over losing my parents, and at that stage I felt I didn't need anyone to look after me." I snorted. "I was fourteen going on thirty."_

"_Did you get into a lot of trouble?"_

_I nodded. "Yeah. They had three other kids, all younger than me, two boys and a girl. They were all like my aunt and uncle. Quiet, steady, good people. And then there was me. I was always looking for an adventure, something new to discover. I could never settle." I smiled sadly as I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I didn't know how._

"_My dad liked to take pictures and I had his equipment. Uncle Peter enrolled me in a photography course and it changed my life. Well, at least it gave it direction. I was good at it and I kept taking courses. I got a part-time job to earn the money to take the more advanced ones. And I volunteered at a photo studio just to learn more."_

"_And you found your path."_

"_I did. As soon as I was eighteen, I left and went off on my own. I met some people, who knew some people, and got some photos published of places I had traveled to. One thing led to another"—I flicked my hand—"and here I am."_

"_How did you end up here?"_

"_I was here visiting a friend. I liked it here and I was looking for a home base. I came into a trust fund when I was twenty-one, from my parents, and I had already been earning good money, so I decided it was time to buy something. I can fly out easily and get to major centers, but it's a great city. I lived in a small place for a while and when I found this building I bought it. It was a great investment."_

"_Do you see your…family?"_

"_Occasionally…" I shrugged. "They never really understood me, but they were always kind, and they tried the best they could. I send them on a trip once a year. They like resorts."_

"_Resorts aren't your thing."_

"_No."_

_She was quiet for a minute, and when she spoke her voice was nervous. "But you still have the travel bug. The need to move—not stay in one place."_

_I cupped her cheek, stroking the soft skin with my thumb. "Until now, I had no reason to."_

"_But now?"_

"_You're my reason, Nightingale. You're what I've been looking for. My anchor."_

"_Edward—"_

"_I'm not giving up my career. You have to understand that. I love what I do."_

"_It's dangerous."_

"_At times. But I'm careful and it's not forever. One day, soon enough, I'll stop doing it."_

"_Can you?"_

"_Yes. When the time is right. There are so many other things I want to take pictures of—people and places. Beautiful parts of this world some people can only experience through photographs." I drew in a breath. "Maybe, one day, you'd come with me while I visit those places?"_

"_I'd love to."_

_I pulled her close, my mouth hovering over hers, wanting to say the words again. Needing to hear them. _

"_I love you, Nightingale," I murmured against her softness._

"_Oh, Edward," she breathed. "So much. I love you so much."_

I smiled, thinking about it.

But I knew we had to return to reality now.

"I'll drive you to work and pick you up in the morning."

"I have to go back to my place."

"I know."

"I start my days off again after tonight."

"Will you spend them here, with me? I want more time with you."

"I'd like that."

I nuzzled her head. "So would I."

_****MN****_

Having slept on and off most of the day I was restless all night, dozing mostly in the chair with the duvet that smelled so strongly of her wrapped around me. I worked on some photos, read a book I'd picked up and sketched out some ideas for changing the layout of the loft, giving the sleep area some privacy with added walls. The need to make the environment around me more comfortable was new. But I wanted IzzyB to feel at home here. I wanted her input on my ideas and her company as often as possible.

We were both quiet when I picked her up, and drove in the opposite direction of my place. I pulled up in front of the small building where she lived, leaving the engine idling, at a loss for what to do next. She surprised me when she hesitantly asked if I would come upstairs with her. I shut off the car and went to her door, offering her my hand.

Inside, she greeted her doorman kindly and introduced me. "He's on my list of permanent visitors, okay, Sam? He doesn't need to be announced."

The older man smiled and nodded. "I'll make sure everyone knows, Ms. Swan."

I followed her to the elevator and wrapped my arm around her waist as we rode up. "Do you have a lot 'no announcement needed people' on your list?"

"No. Alice, Irina, and now you."

"Not even your mother?"

She sighed. "Believe me; I need as much warning as possible then."

I chuckled at her drollness. "Do I get to meet Alice?"

"Yes. Maybe I could set up lunch when she's in town next. She's so busy, I hardly ever see her anymore. But you'll like her—everyone likes Alice."

"Sounds good."

Inside, I looked around curiously. It was small, neat, and tidy. Everything was precise and in order. I shook my head—it didn't feel like her. It felt…empty. Like a stage.

She smiled at me, knowing what I was thinking. "It's not my place. It belongs to Phil. I live here, but only until I don't have to anymore."

Wandering over to her desk, I picked up a frame and studied the pictures. A younger version of her, the smile bright, held by a man with dark hair and a moustache.

"My dad," she murmured sadly.

I picked up another picture: a teenage boy with his arm around her; both of them were laughing.

"Jamie?"

"Yes. That was about a week before he died. Irina took it while we were visiting her."

There were only two other photos. One was IzzyB and Jamie with Irina. She was an older woman, with brilliant, white hair, warm, golden eyes and she had her arms wrapped around both of them.

The other photo was set off to the side and I glanced at it, recognizing her mother and Phil. It was obviously a staged photo, both of them looking very proper, their smiles lacking in any real warmth.

I shook my head as I turned away from the desk. They were missing so much of life. Missing out on knowing a wonderful girl, who, despite everything, still wanted to be loved by them.

IzzyB was watching me closely. I reached out and pulled her into my arms, rocking her. "Do you want to give me some things I can take home with me for this weekend?"

"That's a good idea. I can take a cab to your place after the event." She grinned up at me. "You don't even have to wait up—I have a key."

I chuckled. As if I wouldn't wait up for her. "Go get what you need. I'll wait."

She chatted as she got her things together, reappearing quick.

Twice I opened my mouth to tell her I would be there with her tonight. Twice, words failed me. I didn't think I could bear to hear her tell me she didn't want me there. The words would bring me to my knees. I knew I couldn't sit beside her, hold her hand, and show the world she was mine—yet. But I could be in the same room, be close to her, and hopefully she would draw strength from my presence. I also knew her first instinct would be to protect me, tell me to stay away, but I couldn't.

So I remained quiet; took her small bag, kissed her deeply, and promised to see her later, asking her to please get some sleep today. She thought she would be coming over after the benefit—that I'd be waiting for her—and I wouldn't see her until then. We had plans for the entire weekend together.

I only hoped they would still be in place when she saw me tonight.

_****MN****_

People were milling around everywhere. I tried not to fiddle with the collar of my shirt, failing miserably at times. The suit felt so constrictive, the tie heavy around my neck. I wasn't used to dressing up, but I knew it was expected. I was already going to cause enough trouble without adding to it by dressing inappropriately. Striding up to the bar and ordering a scotch, I did my best to ignore the looks I was getting from many of the women in the room. There was a time I would have met their stares with my own, perhaps even deciding, long before the evening was over, which one would accompany me to a hotel when the event was over. But those days were past me, and now there was only one set of eyes I longed to meet and have their approval. I made my way back over to where my photo was on display, playing the part required; answering questions, feigning interest in their comments about the piece. There was only one opinion I cared about.

And she just walked into the room—a vision in a deep blue dress that swirled around her legs, showing off her shapely calves. Her hair was swept up off her neck, curls escaping around her face.

I knew what that hair felt like wrapped in my fist. How her neck tasted under my tongue and how those legs felt wrapped around me. I wanted to feel it all again.

She was alone, her parents already present. They had stopped briefly, offering fake smiles as they looked at the photo, their expressions blank. They had no idea what they were looking at. One of the committee was standing with me and introduced me to them. I was offered a cool handshake and an even cooler smile by both of them. It was only the fact the committee member droned on about my success and generosity, that I was deemed passable enough for polite conversation. Because they were told I was important, I became such in their eyes.

I met their impassive gazes with one of my own: acknowledged the praise with a tilt of my head, as if it was my just due. Stood tall and proud in my designer suit and expensive watch, both which spoke of the only thing they understood: money.

I answered their inane questions with a wealth of technical phrases I knew they wouldn't understand. Smiled arrogantly as other people came forward, crowding around the piece, listening to their words.

Erotic.

Stimulating.

A masterpiece.

I accepted them all.

Because with IzzyB in the picture, they were all correct. But it was she who made it that way. Their praise was for her—they simply didn't know it.

I narrowed my eyes as Jacob appeared behind IzzyB, reaching his hand out and wrapping it around her elbow. I felt a low growl begin in my chest.

No one should be touching her but me.

Someone approached them and IzzyB turned away, greeting an older woman, I recognized as Irina. They linked arms, strolling away. Jacob frowned and grabbed a drink from the bar. As he approached I tensed up, trying not to reach out and punch him. There was no reason to, aside from the fact I wanted to feel his flesh give way under my fist. Instead, I observed him in silence as he looked at the photo, congratulating myself on my restraint.

"Interesting," he commented. "Not my cup of tea."

I smirked. The idiot had no idea. "No?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not much for…art."

I nodded, keeping my face blank.

He took another pull on his drink. "Good of you to donate it, though."

"It's a good cause."

"It is." He stuck his hand out, surprising me. "Dr. Jacob Black. I'm part of the committee."

For a brief second I looked at his hand and then clasped it in mine, giving it a firm shake. I could be generous. After all, IzzyB was mine now. "Edward Cullen."

"Thank you for this."

"I hope it does well."

He nodded and moved on.

I drained my glass and set it down. Then I heard a small gasp I'd know anywhere, and slowly turned to face IzzyB.

Up close she was more beautiful than ever. But her eyes were wide and confused, her gaze bouncing between me and the photo. Standing beside her, Irina took us both in, her steady gaze shrewd. She tilted her head, studying the photo, then she smirked and pressed a kiss to IzzyB's cheek.

"I'm going to the table. These old legs need to sit down. I'll see you after dinner, child." Then she looked at me. "I understand you're at my table, Mr. Cullen. You'll sit beside me."

It was a command, not a request.

"My pleasure, ma'am." I murmured, not taking my eyes off IzzyB.

She chuckled and swept away. "We'll see about that, boy."

My lips quirked at her tone and the name she'd bestowed on me.

My Nightingale looked at me and then again at the photo. I wanted to pull her in my arms and kiss her until she couldn't breathe. I needed to touch her, but I knew I couldn't.

"No one knows it's you, IzzyB. I promise."

"Irina knew…I know."

"Are you angry?" I asked in a tender, quiet voice.

"I'm overwhelmed." Her hand gestured toward the photo. "When?"

I stepped closer. "After you left for brunch."

Her fathomless eyes met mine. "Why, Edward? Why are you here?"

"I wanted to be here tonight. Be close to you." Unable to resist, I flicked my fingers out, touching her wrist. "I was afraid if I told you, you'd tell me not to come."

She moved, seemingly to get closer to the photo. I startled when her fingers slipped into my hand, squeezing tight before withdrawing. "Thank you."

"You're so beautiful."

She offered me a smile—a warm one filled with her light. "You clean up well, Mr. Cullen."

"Your dress is lovely. It looks spectacular on you." I edged nearer, lowering my voice. "It's going to look even better on the floor beside our bed."

Her hand flew to her neck where my nightingale pendant rested. "Edward—" she breathed out.

"I need you alone."

"You'll have it later."

"I'm not sure I'll last until then."

"Try, Edward. It's only a few hours. At least make it through dinner."

I smirked. "I'll try."

"I'd hate to see this work of art not get auctioned off if you misbehaved and got dragged out."

"Do you hate it?" I asked, indicating the photo.

"No." She shook her head. "I think it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I wish I could afford to buy it."

"I might be able to help with that."

She laughed softly. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Jacob appeared suddenly, and she took a step back. He looked between us and only then did I realize how close we were standing. I moved back as well.

"Isabella, we need to move to our table."

She smiled at me, her eyes nervous. "Thank you again for your…explanation. Your photo is… mesmerizing."

"You're welcome, Ms. Swan." I returned her smile. "Enjoy your dinner."

"I will."

I watched her walk away, moving in front of Jacob so he didn't touch her.

Then I dragged in a deep breath of air.

It was the last time she'd have to walk without me.

* * *

><p><strong>Next up...we get to know Irina a little more and see what Edward is gonna do. "We'll see about that, boy." This might be fun!<strong>

**Update Sunday. **

**Thank you for reading and all your lovely thoughts. They mean so much. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A quick couple of notes. **

**First-Thank you so much to all of you who voted for me in the TwiFicFanAwards-seeing my name nine times in the top three was beyond thrilling. I am humbled and honored you read my words and like them enough to vote. **

**Second-Guest Reviewer if you want to criticize you have every right, but make sure you have the facts straight and are commenting on the correct story. Never has Edward said what his tattoos represent - they are not "postcards" from his travels. That is another story, by another(and personal favorite) author. His tattoos have their own special meaning to him. For many of us with tattoos, they are very personal and beautiful. **

**That is all I have to say on that subject. **

**Now onto dinner and Irina. **

* * *

><p>Dinner was a cat and mouse game with Irina. IzzyB was correct when she'd stated Irina would preside over the table. The old woman was a powerhouse—shrewd, sharp, and blunt. She was also catty and snarky when she felt like it—which, it seemed, was a lot this evening. Her jibs were laced with the sweetest of smiles, her sharp words laced with kindness. She didn't suffer fools easily, and this table was full of them.<p>

I liked her a lot.

My view of IzzyB was perfect. I could see her and she could see me. More than once our gazes met, lingering far too long, and I had to tear my glance away. More than once Irina caught my stare.

The conversation was varied and I tuned out a great deal of it, covertly making sure Jacob didn't get too handsy and IzzyB wasn't picked on by her mother every moment. She was stuck between them again, but tonight she didn't seem as drawn in on herself. Her shoulders were back, the light glinting off her pendant. Her face was almost serene, and I knew I'd made the right decision coming here. She needed me.

I liked being needed by her.

I thought of the little tile I'd found earlier when I was at the market. Porcelain with a nightingale painted on and set into a small frame. I'd give it to her later—she'd love it. She could take it to her apartment—it would be something of hers in a place where she didn't feel completely at home.

Irina cleared her throat, and I realized I'd been staring far too long at IzzyB. She shifted in her chair, turning to face me. Most of our table had gotten up to look over the auction items one last time, leaving us alone.

She regarded me shrewdly and leaned close. "I know who you are, boy."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Do you now?"

Her voice was quiet. "You're the reason Isabella is glowing this evening."

"You think?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You don't want to take credit for making her happy?"

My expression gave me away. "It's IzzyB's news to share."

"IzzyB?" She chuckled. "That's going to go over well with Renee and Phil."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I don't much give a fuck about Renee and Phil."

She surprised me by clapping her hands in delight. "Oh, I'm going to like you, boy."

I smiled at her—the first real smile I'd bestowed of the night other than to IzzyB. "That's a good thing. I'm already quite fond of you."

"That's a rather risqué picture you're offering up."

"It's a work of art. Something I created."

She shook her head impatiently. "Isabella spent many afternoons in my pool when Jamie would bring her to visit." This time it was her eyebrow that arched knowingly. "I recognize those freckles."

A grin broke out on my face and I lowered my head. "Enchanting, aren't they?"

"You made a huge mistake, though."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Someone is going to walk out of here with that picture. That lovely, _enchanting _picture—the _subject,_ who so obviously means so much to you." She narrowed her eyes. "And you have to sign it for them, I believe."

I lifted her hand and brushed a kiss along the paper-thin skin. "Madame, you underestimate me."

"We'll see, boy. We'll see."

_****MN****_

I smirked and watched the action around me. Most of the items hit high numbers, but I knew mine would blow them all out of the water. I didn't really like everyone ogling the image on my photo; I knew they had no idea who it was, but I also knew it didn't matter. No one would ever see it again after tonight.

Except me.

My picture came up for auction and I sat back, relaxed. Her parents had walked past it, barely sparing it a glance. Jacob had looked at it, not even knowing what he saw, proving to me he didn't know her intimately at all. IzzyB had stared, her eyes wide, shocked. She knew.

And the brilliant, all-knowing Irina knew.

The bidding started at five thousand. It jumped to ten fast. I remained relaxed as it continued to escalate. When it hit twenty-five thousand, I smiled benignly and sipped my wine.

"I hope you're ready to sign your name soon," Irina frowned.

"Not a problem."

Thirty.

Forty.

I tapped a quick message out on my phone.

_**Now.**_

"One hundred thousand!" A voice shouted from across the room.

There were gasps of disbelief, a round of applause, and just like that, it was done.

Irina shook her head, then grinned. "You are good," she mused.

I smirked into my wine. Thanks to my business manager, I had just bought my own piece.

I grinned at Irina and leaned forward, speaking quietly. "She's so worth it."

She sighed softly and offered me a smile. A warm, honest smile.

"Finally," she murmured. "She _finally _has someone real."

I nodded. "She has. And no matter what anyone else thinks, I'm here to stay. Forever."

"I like you, boy. I want you to come for tea."

"Make it coffee and scotch, and I'll bring the scotch."

She laughed; a loud boisterous sound in the quiet hum of the room. Some people turned to look, but we both ignored them.

"Soon," she insisted.

"Done."

After the last few auction items were sold, people began to mill around. I stood up, once again kissing Irina's hand. "I'm going to go and mingle. I look forward to coffee."

Her gaze drifted over the table where IzzyB sat with Jacob and her parents. "Watch yourself, boy. They bite."

I took off my jacket, hanging it over the back of my chair. Slowly I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my ink-covered forearms. I grinned down at her as I flexed my muscles. "So do I."

She eyed my arms, her eyebrows high and her eyes glowing. One shaky finger trailed along a long black line of ink. "My husband had a tattoo. I found rather…sexy."

"Really."

She winked up at me, her expression saucy. I could see her in her youth, mischievous and bright with life. "It was in a more, ah, private place. Only he and I ever saw it."

I winked back, smirking at her. "_Scandalous_."

"It was. And I saw it—a lot." She indicated the table I was anxious to visit. "Go get 'em."

Smoothly, I moved through the crowd, patiently accepting some handshakes and explaining to a few people that, no, I didn't do private photo sessions for portraits. I managed to keep my temper until I got to the table and saw IzzyB. She was still stuck between her mother and Jacob and they were both talking. I wasn't sure if it was at her or to her, but she was now uncomfortable, her hands twisting together on the table. I straightened my shoulders and stepped forward.

"IzzyB."

Three sets of eyes met my gaze. Two displeased, and one startled, soft, and so blue I wanted to drown in them.

"Edward," she breathed.

Jacob stood up, his hand on her shoulder. It took all my inner strength not to knock it off and tell him to keep his hands off my girl.

IzzyB reached up, pushing away his grip.

"Can we help you?" Renee demanded, her cold eyes widening as they took in the artwork now displayed on my arms. Disapproval colored her tone.

"Mother," IzzyB whispered. "This is Edward Cullen. He donated the piece that fetched such a large donation. He's very well-known."

"Ah. Yes. We met earlier. It was…an interesting piece."

I tilted my head in acknowledgment of her "praise."

"I had an exceptional muse."

IzzyB's cheeks colored and her eyes warmed even further.

"I was wondering if I might borrow IzzyB for a moment."

"Her name is Isabella," Jacob spoke up, frowning.

"And how do you know my daughter, Mr. Cullen?"

"I was fortunate enough to meet her after a small work-related mishap. She took very good care of me." I gave IzzyB a huge grin before turning back to her mother. "When I heard about the benefit for the children's ward, I remembered her kindness and wanted to give back. You must be so proud of your daughter, Mrs. Dwyer. Such a caring, gifted nurse and a truly remarkable woman."

She cleared her throat, her disdain of my opinion evident. "Yes, of course."

Phil appeared, a drink in hand, and I reintroduced myself, shaking his hand firmly and meeting his eye. I wasn't going to back down in front of these people. IzzyB needed to know I was there for her.

"I've seen your work," he acknowledged grudgingly. "You're very good. Several of the men at the bar were discussing your last shoot in the Amazon."

"I hold my own."

He eyed my arms distastefully. "Dangerous work. Almost reckless."

His tone said the word he didn't speak: unacceptable.

"I'm careful." I glanced in IzzyB's direction. "I get into far more trouble close to home. Thank God for nurses with a healing touch. It'll come in handy if I have an accident with my bike."

Renee's voice became even more displeased. "You drive a motorcycle?"

"When weather permits."

She eyed me in silence and I watched as I was effectively dismissed. Without the cover of the suit and the safe veneer of respectability surrounding me, she saw me for what I was...at least in her eyes.

I was everything they wouldn't tolerate: reckless, blunt, open, strong, covered in ink—with a motorcycle waiting to whisk IzzyB away—making me dangerous as well, and rich or not, I was _not _acceptable.

Nor was I afraid of them.

Jacob made a displeased noise, then turned and walked away, stomping over to the nearest bar. IzzyB tensed as her mother spoke up. "How long have you been…_acquaintances_?"

"Oh, that's not the word I'd use, Mrs. Dwyer." I smirked. "But I plan on getting to know her much better now."

Her voice was like ice. "I see."

I held out my hand, hoping it wouldn't shake. "Will you walk with me, IzzyB?"

She gazed at me as my eyes beseeched her to accept. She could refuse and convince her parents I was some crazy artist she had no interest in. She could be polite and turn me away in a gentle manner.

Or she could be brave and let me claim her. Leave this table and the judgment they had laid on her so many years ago, and come with me, knowing she'd never have to be subject to that again in her life.

Biting her lip, she stood up, clutching her small bag. "Good evening, Mother."

Renee didn't move, but her lips thinned out in warning. "Isabella."

IzzyB slipped her hand in mine, allowing me to pull her closer. I dipped my head in victory. "Have a pleasant evening."

Irina smirked as we went by.

I stopped and dropped a kiss on her downy cheek as I grabbed my jacket. "If I hadn't met IzzyB first, I'd so go for you."

Her laughter followed us out of the room.

_****MN****_

I pulled IzzyB into the closest alcove and wrapped my arms around her.

"I can't believe you just did that," she whispered into my neck.

"If you're furious, I'll drive you home," I offered, praying she wasn't.

She lifted her face to me, her eyes filled with wonder. "How can I be furious? You just stood up to my mother and Phil. In a way I've never seen anyone stand up to them before. You did it on their level." She shook her head. "In a room full of their peers, you…_claimed _me…and no one even noticed."

"I can work a room."

"You're shameless."

"No. I'm in love with you. I want everyone to know you're mine. They can either accept it or get the fuck out of the way."

"They'll never accept it."

Slipping my fingers under her chin, I dropped a kiss on her sweet mouth. "I know this is going to explode around us. I only wanted to come tonight and let them see I exist. I didn't plan the whole pissing contest with your mother."

"What changed?"

"Seeing you. You weren't beside me. I couldn't touch you. He could and I hated it. He can talk to you, act like you belong to him, but you don't." I slid my hands down her arms, pulling her closer. "You're mine, IzzyB. You belong with me."

"Yes, I do."

"You're not angry?"

"No. I'll be summoned soon, though."

"I'll go with you. You don't have to face them alone."

"You'd do that?"

"I'd do anything for you."

She burrowed herself against me, and I held her tight. "We'll do this together." I snorted. "Or I can call Irina. She'll put them straight in a fucking heartbeat."

"Irina adored you."

"I like her. She's…_wicked_. She likes my ink." I winked at her. "I think the old gal fancies me a little."

IzzyB giggled. "I don't blame her. You're pretty hot stuff, Mr. Cullen."

"Can I take you home?"

"Yes."

"My home?"

"Can I use my key?"

I tucked her under my arm.

"Yes."

"Edward…"

"What?"

"Can we…do something?"

"Anything."

"Can we pick up a pizza? And eat it in bed while we watch a movie? I've always wanted to do that."

I grinned, even as I felt a tug of sadness at her confession. "With or without utensils?"

"Without."

"That's my wild girl." I dropped a kiss on her head.

Her eyes lit up with mischief. "Extra cheese?"

I grinned down at her. "Now you're talking."

"Let's go home."

I tucked her to my side and led the way.

Home.

With her there, that was what the loft was now.

Our home.

* * *

><p><strong>Irina. She's a firecracker. We'll see more of her soon. Update on Thursday. <strong>


	14. Chapter 14

IzzyB's phone chimed again, but this time it was a different sound than usual. Both Jacob and her mother had tried several times to reach her since we left the gala last night, but she ignored them all. She glanced over from her spot in my arms, frowning.

"You need that?"

"That's the hospital."

Reluctantly I reached over and handed it to her. I didn't want her going in, but I knew I had no voice in the matter. She read the screen and rolled her eyes.

"What?"

"It's a reminder from Mrs. Cope about my holiday time."

"What about it?"

She smirked a little. "The fact I have too much of it and I need to take some."

"Oh, yeah?"

She nodded. "This happens every year."

"Why don't you?"

She sat up, looking out the window. "There never seems to be any point. I don't have the money to travel or anyone to travel with, really. I went with Irina once on a brief trip to New York, but she likes her own kind of thing." She smiled. "Mostly playing cards and gossiping with her cronies. I hate sitting around the apartment. I take a few days every so often when Mrs. Cope insists, and I play tourist here, but that's about it."

I sat up beside her, running my fingers along her arm. I leaned in and kissed her 'V' of freckles. "Take some time then—now. With me."

She looked over at me. "What?"

"Take a week off. Play hooky with me. We can take some road trips on the bike, sleep in, eat out and just get some time with each other."

"What about your job?"

I grinned. "I'll shock the hell out of Emmett and tell him I'm taking a week off. If anything happens he can get someone else."

Excitement lit up her eyes. "Really?"

"Can they get someone to cover for you?"

She clutched her phone. "I'll ask."

_****MN****_

Leaning back against the tree, I smiled indulgently at IzzyB. She was aiming her camera phone my way, no doubt in retribution for the hundreds of photos I'd taken of her these past few days. I loved how she looked in my lens. Smiling, laughing, sleeping, even crying while we watched some god-awful chick flick she insisted we needed to see. I had captured all her emotions and the way her brilliant eyes projected them.

Mrs. Cope had been more than accommodating with her, finding someone to cover her shifts without hesitation, and Emmett, once he recovered from his shock, simply laughed and wished me a good week, promising to contact me in only the direst of circumstances.

We had some days of great weather; we took full advantage of it. I purchased a helmet and gear for IzzyB and she loved riding on the bike with me. I loved how she felt wrapped around my body, her chest pressed into my back and her legs straddling mine.

Today we were having a picnic. She had cooked all morning, while I attempted to help. I was kicked out of the kitchen, after being told, in no uncertain terms, trying to fuck her on the counter did not constitute "help."

I did it anyway.

She was too sexy wearing one of my shirts, with her hair piled on her head and her bare feet thumping on the floor as she moved around, singing softly to herself. Watching her hips move in time to the music as she stirred something in a bowl, it was too much to resist.

My shirt ended up on the floor. She ended up on the counter and my face ended up between her legs.

She did scream my name—twice.

Once, while I fucked her with my tongue, and once, when I buried myself deep inside, and took her hard and fast.

Just like I told her I would.

Even now, looking at her across the blanket from me, I wanted her. I glanced around at the trees—they were thick and plentiful. We were in a private little area we'd found on the edge of the park.

I could pull her onto my lap and bury myself in her warmth. She was even wearing a skirt.

How convenient.

"I know what you're thinking," she sang out, smirking as she popped a grape in her mouth.

"Mind reader now, are you?"

"No." She indicated my lap and the prominent bulge I was sporting—a constant state for me it seemed when she was around. "Body language." She shook her head. "Is that all you think of, Edward?"

"Not my fault you're so fucking sexy, Nightingale." I patted my knee, leering at her. "Why don't you come over here and we can talk about whatever…pops up?"

She started to giggle. The giggling became laughter, and she clapped a hand over her mouth trying to hold in her mirth.

I began to laugh with her. I loved seeing her like this. She was rested and relaxed, the dark circles under her eyes vanished and the worried look gone. She had informed both her parents and Jacob she was going away for a week and cut off all communication, refusing to listen to their objections or to see them until the week was over. It had done her a world of good.

She said I had done her a world of good.

I pushed off the tree, lunging and catching her around the waist, pinning her underneath me.

"You think that's funny? You find my cock funny, IzzyB?" I growled and thrust forward.

Her eyes widened; all the laughter ceasing as she felt how hard I was for her. A small moan escaped her lips.

My tongue ran up her neck, and I pulled her earlobe into my mouth, swirling and teasing. "You like that, don't you? Feeling how hard you make me."

"Yes…"

"You want me, IzzyB? You want me to fuck you outside, knowing someone might see us?" I bit down on her neck gently, sucking the skin between my teeth and rolling it. "_Tell me_, my wild girl. Tell me what you want."

I slipped my hands under her shirt, ghosting up her torso and tracing her lace covered nipples with my thumbs.

"My hands, IzzyB? You want my hands on you?"

I tickled her skin with my tongue, dipping between her breasts and nuzzling.

"My tongue? Is that what you want?"

I sat back and pulled her against me, my cock hitting her heat. "Or my cock?"

She whimpered, the sound making me even harder. I stroked her leg, inching my hands higher until they reached the satin of her panties. Her very small, very damp panties.

"Oh, someone's ready," I crooned, slipping my fingers inside and feeling her damp heat. "So ready."

"Please, Edward," she panted.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

I loved hearing her tell me. I loved hearing the dirty words she only ever said to me, fall from those sweet lips. Her head thrashed as I flexed my fingers, stroking that spot that drove her crazy.

"I'll give you everything. Just say it."

She arched, forcing my fingers even deeper. "Oh, God… Edward… _I want_…I want you to _fuck _me."

"With?" I panted.

"Your _cock_…I want your cock."

I pushed her panties aside and lifted her onto my lap, sinking in deep. "Good answer, baby."

I held her tight, her face buried in my neck as she rolled her hips, pressing down as I thrust into her. She whimpered and moaned; her breath hot on my skin. She gripped my shirt, fisting it in her hands as she rode me hard. The feel of her teeth biting down into my skin as she quivered sent me over the edge and I groaned as I emptied myself inside her.

We stilled, still wrapped around each other. I buried my hands in her hair and lifted her face to mine, covering her skin with kisses, murmuring endearments as I brushed my lips over her beautiful face.

"God, I love you, IzzyB. I love you so fucking much I think I'll burst from it."

She hummed in agreement.

"You're everything to me, baby. _Everything_. I can't imagine life without you anymore."

She drew back, her smile radiant.

"You'll never have to."

All levity left me as I gripped her face between my palms. "Promise me."

Her tiny hands covered mine, squeezing. "I promise. I'll never leave you, Edward."

I clutched her to me. "Thank God."

_****MN****_

"You both look…well rested," Irina smirked at us.

I leaned back in my chair, holding the glass of scotch. We'd been given the non-negotiable invitation to appear for lunch. I brought the promised scotch and the biggest bouquet of orchids and roses the florist could create.

Somehow I knew extravagant was the way to go with Irina. Nothing less would be right.

She accepted both as if it was her due, as well as the kiss I bestowed to her downy cheek.

"I convinced IzzyB to take the week off."

"Well, that's a first."

I winked at her. "There've been many firsts this week, Irina."

IzzyB blushed, slapping me on my arm. "Edward!"

I grinned. "What?" I asked innocently. "You rode my…_bike_…for the first time this week, didn't you?"

Irina scoffed as IzzyB's cheeks darkened further. Chuckling, I brushed a kiss to her warm skin.

"Behave," she admonished quietly.

"I'll try."

Irina clapped her hands. "No! I like seeing the two of you like this. It's like a breath of fresh air." She sighed as she picked up her glass. "My Garrett and I couldn't keep our hands off each other. We—what is that phrase you young ones use nowadays—we fucked like rabbits all the time. I remember getting kicked out of the country club for inappropriate behavior on the golf course.

"Of course, it wasn't the first time; the only difference was we got caught. That man knew his way around my putting green, let me tell you."

IzzyB sputtered into her glass as I threw my head back and laughed. "I bet you got kicked out of a few places didn't you, you minx, you."

"A few. He was a very physical man." She paused then chuckled. "Thank God. So many of the men I'd met before him were dreadful, boring people. Like they had sticks up their ass."

She grinned at IzzyB. "Like that Jacob one. What a tool."

I promptly decided I was arranging for flowers to be sent to this woman weekly. I adored her.

She leaned forward and patted my hand. "I'm glad she found you, boy."

Lifting IzzyB's hand, I kissed her knuckles with a smile. "So am I."

IzzyB stood up, excusing herself to clean up from lunch. I watched her walk away with a smile, loving the sway of her hips as she moved.

Irina cleared her throat, and I dragged my gaze back to her.

"You have it bad."

"It's terminal."

"I want to see lots of you, boy."

"Ditto. On one condition."

"Oh—negotiations. Excellent. Let's begin."

"Only one."

"Name it."

I moved closer, feeling earnest. "I get called away a lot. Promise me when I do, you'll watch out for IzzyB."

"Keep the monsters at bay such as it were?" she asked with a wry grin.

I nodded. "I need to know she has someone on her side."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "How serious are you about my girl?"

I met her gaze unwaveringly. "She's my life now. She feels the same about me. Her parents…"

"Hate you," she finished.

"I'm not _acceptable_."

She snorted. "Phil. There's another tool. My brother was the biggest snob that ever lived and he passed that along to him. My nephew is so worried about keeping up appearances, he forgets to actually _look _and see anything."

"I'm worried what they'll do and say to her when I'm not around."

She nodded. "They'll try. But I'll say this, Edward. I've never seen Bella look at anyone the way she looks at you. It won't matter what they say or do. She's made up her mind about what she wants. And she wants you." She patted my arm. "But I'll keep an eye out. Now I have a request for you—two actually."

"Name them."

"I know what you do is dangerous. Promise you'll be careful and come home to her."

"Always."

She paused, her eyes becoming distant for a moment.

"Jamie was a gift to me. I never understood how two such uptight people had a son like him. He was pure sunshine. I adored him." She looked at me purposely. "And he adored your 'IzzyB'. She has paid an unnecessary price for an accident she didn't cause. He would have hated his father for it."

"IzzyB loved him as well. She still misses him."

She frowned. "They drummed so much shit into her head for so long she started to believe it, I think. I've only ever been able to do so much. Phil's bitterness was so strong, I knew if I showed her affection he would send her off to some boarding school as far away as possible. I've always had to hide my affection for her."

I reached for her frail hand. "She knows, Irina. Believe me. She calls you her 'guardian angel'."

She shook her head. "Some guardian. I wanted to pay for her education and an apartment for her, but Phil insisted he would. I had no idea of the terms until it slipped out one night after Phil had a few too many drinks in him. But Bella refuses to let me pay him on her behalf, even now."

"She's stubborn." I agreed. "She won't let me pay him off, either. But, I hope, soon, she can break free of all that. I want to look after her."

"That's my second favor, Edward."

"What?"

"I'm old, dear boy. Getting older by the day and I'm getting tired. I miss Garrett. One day, in the not too distant future, I'll be gone. I want you to promise you'll look after her. If I know she's all right, then it will bring me some peace."

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. "You have my word. But please, Irina. Stick around. IzzyB loves you and I think you're fucking amazing. I want to spend years getting to know you. Not months."

She smiled at me—a wide, beaming smile that made me smile back.

"You remind me of my Garrett—dirty mouth and all. God, I loved that man. I'll do my best, boy. We'll both keep our end of the bargain, yes?"

"Yes."

"All right. I hope you brought some cash, young man. I feel like playing poker and I don't take candy."

I chuckled and reached into my pocket for the rolls of coins. IzzyB had warned me.

"You're on, old woman. But I warn you, I play to win."

"That is exactly why I like you."

I nodded, smirking at her. I liked her, too.

Those flowers were going to start arriving this week.

* * *

><p><strong>Irina... LOL. <strong>

**Thank you for reading. Update on Tuesday. **


	15. Chapter 15

IzzyB groaned as she lifted her head. "It's raining."

I pulled her tight to my chest, grazing the soft skin on her neck with my tongue. "We live in Seattle, Nightingale. This shouldn't surprise you."

"It's been so lovely the past few days. I wanted another picnic today."

"Maybe it'll clear up."

I could feel her pout. "I doubt it. It looks miserable outside."

I glanced out the window. She was right—the skies were dark and filled with rain. "I guess we'll have to stay in bed all day then." I growled against her ear, loving her shiver as my hands stroked the side of her full breasts. She was so sensitive to my touch, always responsive—always ready. Still shy at times, she was, without a doubt, the most sensually erotic lover I'd ever been with. The only one I wanted to have for the rest of my life.

"You've voted for that every day."

"And every day we've gone out. So today, I get my wish." I rolled her over, looking down at her lovely face. Her eyes were still sleepy, but she was relaxed and rested. And happy. We were both so fucking happy.

"I think Joseph is coming over this morning," she reminded me.

I frowned. "Dammit."

"Aren't you excited to get the chair and your stools?"

"Yeah, I am," I admitted. They were going to look great. "But after he leaves, you're all mine. You, me, this bed."

She reached up, cupping my face with her hands. "I'm already all yours, Edward. If you want me in your bed all day, you can have me."

I groaned at her sweet words.

"What time is he coming?"

"Ten."

I glanced at the clock. It was only eight—plenty of time.

I slipped between her legs, my cock already aching for her. It didn't matter how often I had her, I wanted more. "I'm pretty sure we can both come—a couple times— before he gets here."

"I wanted a shower," she protested, even as she wrapped her legs around me.

I thrust forward, feeling her readiness. She wanted me, as well.

"I can work with that—after." I hummed against her breasts, capturing a plump nipple in my mouth.

"After?" she whimpered, arching closer.

I hissed as her movement dragged her wetness along my cock, coating me with her want.

"After I make love to you here, in our bed. I'll make you coffee. Then…" I bit down gently.

"Then?" she gasped.

"Then we'll have a shower…together." I slipped into her warmth, stilling at the completeness of being buried inside her.

"It's never just a shower when you're in there with me, Edward." She flexed, her body surrounding me.

I grinned, as I thrust slowly, deeply, taking my time with her.

"I know."

_****MN****_

"This feels so…decadent."

"Eating lunch?"

"Eating Chinese food on the floor in the middle of the day."

I snickered as I shoveled in a mouthful of spicy beef. When IzzyB mentioned she loved Chinese food, I had called down to the little place on the corner and ordered lunch. We spread out the blanket and the food I bought, diving in with chopsticks. I refused to let her have a plate. I loved seeing her get messy when she ate—actually enjoy what she was eating, rather than worrying about dripping spicy plum sauce down her chin.

That was what I was for, I told her, as I licked it off.

I also sucked on her fingers after she nibbled on a crunchy wonton with sweet and sour sauce. I used my tongue to sweep off the sticky goo from her fingers, loving how her eyes fluttered shut and a soft groan escaped her lips as I did.

I was looking forward to dessert.

I planned on licking my ice cream from the sweetest spot on earth.

When I informed her of that, the fast intake of air let me know she was perfectly fine with my plan.

Her guileless eyes were already filled with desire that matched my own. She was so perfect for me.

I adored her.

Every single sweet, messy, part of her.

I winked at her. "Eat up, Nightingale. You're gonna need your strength."

She blushed, rolling her eyes, but still smiling. "I can hardly wait to try out the chair."

"Now you're talking." I'd been eyeing it myself for possibilities. It was the size of a small sofa with a high rounded back and arms like the bed. It was deep and thickly padded. I was sure I could have her on it, in it, over the arms and back and a dozen other ways, if I put my mind to it. I was looking forward to trying them all out.

"I meant to read, Edward. Curl up in it and read."

I grinned at her, knowing full well that was what she meant. She had prattled onto Joseph about cushions and cozy blankets and the perfect spot for cuddling. I had no objections to any of it, but I had many other plans for that chair—cuddling could happen afterward.

I snorted. "Feel free, IzzyB. We'll see how long that lasts."

She giggled. "You're such a pervert."

"Your pervert."

She beamed. "I know."

_****MN****_

Groaning in utter contentment, I buried deeper into IzzyB's warmth. The chair had been checked out after our Chinese picnic. The book was discarded quite fast once I started massaging her feet, slowly working my way up her calves and thighs.

It was, as we both discovered, the perfect chair for her to ride me in. Gripping the leather behind my head, straddling my hips, she was a sight to behold as she bent backward, riding out her release. After, I lifted her to our bed, where she nestled among the pillows, patting her stomach in a silent invitation. I curled around her, enjoying the feeling of her fingers drifting through my hair as she hummed in her soft voice.

It was one of the most perfect afternoons of my life.

Until my phone rang out with Emmett's ring tone.

We both stiffened, and I attempted to ignore it. The second time it went, IzzyB leaned over and took it from the night stand, holding it out to me with a sad smile.

I kissed her before answering it, knowing our bubble had just broken.

_****MN****_

The next couple months, I was back and forth constantly. Sometimes I'd get a precious couple days at home with her. Other times I barely had walked through the door and Emmett was calling again. He was always full of apologies which were unnecessary. He wasn't the cause of the strange weather occurrences that pulled me away from her. I flew all over the globe, capturing storms, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis and even a volcano. Sometimes I got there while the event occurred, some I only arrived to photograph the aftermath. All were frightening, devastating, and captured by my lens.

IzzyB often pointed out, no matter how terrible the event was, in all instances, there were also moments of beauty on the films—people helping others, a rare smile when a person would find some precious article they thought was lost forever, or my camera would be clicking away at the perfect moment when the sun shone just right across a plain of grass, or lowering into the ocean.

She smiled in acceptance every time and even helped me pack. She drove me to the airport, waving off my apologies and telling me she understood. I was worried about Phil and Renee and the frequent times I was away, but she shook her head and told me she could handle it. Our farewell kisses were long and deep and I always knew the ache in my chest wouldn't stop until she was once again in my arms.

Irina kept her promise and made sure to check in with her all the time. She told me now IzzyB had me in her life, she felt easier about showing her affection. She didn't have to worry about Phil taking away her apartment or causing her any other grief. IzzyB had a place to go, and someone who would look after her, no matter what else occurred.

When I was in town, I lost a lot of money to Irina's cheating ways at poker. And I loved every minute of the time we would spend with her: sipping scotch, playing cards and listening to her stories. I sought out different scotches in every country I went to, bringing her back some rare, exotic bottle to try. We would sip and discuss the complex flavors, while IzzyB would grin at both of us, enjoying her wine and pulling faces when I tried to get her to join us in our taste tests. She informed me the only time she liked the taste of scotch was when it lingered on my tongue and I kissed her. I made sure she got a taste every time. Several, in fact.

Irina's flowers still arrived weekly. I added IzzyB to the delivery route every time I left town. Sadly, she received far too many bouquets some months.

_****MN****_

"D49." The attendant smiled at me as he handed off the keys. I located the car and threw my stuff in the back, anxious to get on the road. I'd been away for over a week and when the plane for the last leg of the trip was delayed due to mechanical failure, I decided I couldn't wait another whole day before seeing IzzyB, so I rented a car, planning on driving the final six hours to get home. It was far better than pacing around a hotel room or the airport.

I was waiting for IzzyB when she walked out of the hospital on a drizzly, overcast morning. Her head was down, her shoulders hunched against the cold when I called out to her. "_Nightingale_."

She looked up, her face transforming, as my arms opened and she flung herself into them. I held her tight, lifting her feet right off the ground. Her face was buried in my neck and I felt the wet of her tears.

"Hey, what's this?" I asked quietly. "I'm fine, IzzyB. You know that. We spoke every day."

"I missed you so much."

I kissed her head, inhaling her soft scent. "I missed you. Can I take you home? Do you need anything from your place?"

She tilted her head back. "I stayed at the loft a couple times."

"I'd like it if you stayed all the time."

She cupped my face. "You look so tired."

"I drove all night to get to you, IzzyB."

"_Edward!"_

I crushed her to me, burying my face into her neck. "I couldn't wait to get back to you. I need to take you home to our bed. I want to fall asleep in your arms. Wake up beside you. I _need _that—I need you. Please tell me I can have it. Tell me everyone else can fuck off and I can have you today."

I gripped her tighter. "Please."

"Yes."

"They'll come pick up the rental later. Will you follow me home?"

Her voice was like music to my ears. "I'll follow you anywhere."

_****MN****_

IzzyB stiffened as my fingers slipped below her waistband, tugging on the material to get her pants off. I needed to be buried inside her—deep inside her, and I needed it _now_. I frowned when I felt the edges of a bandage and as quickly and gently as I could, tugged down the fabric. A bandage covered the area just below her hip bone.

"IzzyB? You're hurt?" I murmured, tracing the edge of the bandage. "What happened, baby?"

"I'm not hurt."

I looked up at her quizzically. She was biting her lip, looking worried.

"You came home early. I was going to surprise you. I, ah, I did something. I got a tattoo."

My eyes widened. "You got a tattoo?" I repeated.

She nodded. "I thought the bandage would be off and you'd see it…"

I shook my head. "No. This is good—let me take it off."

"I hope you like it."

Slowly I peeled the bandage back, revealing her ink. Low on her hip, where only I would ever see it, was a small camera etched out over a swirl design. As I traced the design with my fingers, I realized my initials were woven into the swirl, over and again. She had marked herself with my name, and the love I had of photography.

"Nightingale," I whispered.

"Do you like it?"

Bending low, I nuzzled the tender skin. "It's perfect."

"I was too scared to get it on my chest. I was so worried it would hurt too much and I wouldn't be able to finish it."

"No, I like it here. Only I'll see it. It's mine." I met her gaze. "You're mine."

"I am," she whispered.

"Who did it?"

"I found a business card on your desk. I called the guy and he said he did all your tattoos so I went there."

I nodded. "Quil is great—his artwork of all my favorite legends is incredible. He worked on the designs for weeks. Even longer than the actual tattooing process. I'm glad you found his card."

"I told him what I wanted and he drew it up and did it."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes…but I think I still want another one, one day."

I slid my fingers over her chest, tracing the spot on her heart. "Here?"

"Yes."

"Okay. One day."

"He said he'd been working on a design for you, but he wouldn't say what it was."

I lowered my mouth to hers. "Trust me, Nightingale. You'll like it. When it's done there'll be no doubt who I belong to as well."

Then, with a grin I rolled over so she was straddling me. My cock slid against her wetness, aching to be joined with her. "For now, IzzyB, I think you need to be on top. We won't rub the tattoo and I get to watch you move with my mark on you."

With a smile, she slid down, taking me inside. I groaned as she started to move, my eyes never leaving the tattoo.

It was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

_****MN****_

There was finally a lull in my schedule and I had a break with IzzyB. Mrs. Cope worked her magic and she took some more of her accrued holidays. We spent the days exploring and catching up. I loved talking to IzzyB, how she hung on my words and asked questions about everything I had seen and done while away from her. She always looked through my photos, often pointing out some obscure fact I hadn't noticed. She had a good eye. We visited with Irina, the old broad making me laugh with her wit and sarcasm, and I even suffered through another dinner with her parents.

It was an evening of tension for all of us. No matter how hard I tried, they refused to consider the fact I made IzzyB happy, or that because I was different, I wasn't acceptable. I wasn't from their world of wealth and privilege; just because I had money didn't make me acceptable. It didn't matter how expensive my suit was, or the fact it covered my ink, they both let me know they knew what lay underneath the finely cut cloth. Phil enjoyed baiting me, constantly trying to trip me up as he spoke of stocks and business. He never managed to do so, which only seemed to make him colder.

Renee enjoyed ignoring me, sitting there with a bored, dismissive look on her face. She hated it when I would engage her in a conversation about one of her charities or ask her to talk about IzzyB growing up, forcing her to speak at length with me. I did it anyway.

I enjoyed making them both cringe with my shows of affection for IzzyB, and my effusive praise of how wonderful and perfect she was. I refused to let them intimidate me or dictate how I acted around my girl. She was what counted, not them.

I even smiled benignly when Renee would bring up Jacob. I knew IzzyB saw him at dinners they would attend. Somehow, he was always at their table. I also knew he accidently showed up at a couple brunches she went to with her parents. He told her he still considered her a friend, and only wanted to make sure she was happy. Nothing more.

I called bullshit on that.

I countered by telling Irina, who suddenly had the whim for mimosas and eggs benedict and surprised them with her presence one Sunday. After a few hours of her company, Jacob hadn't shown up again.

Her flower arrangement that week was massive.

On the way home that night, IzzyB squeezed my hand. "No more dinners, Edward."

"Was I that bad?" I did like to goad them. They pissed me off so much with their attitude toward my girl.

She shook her head. "No, they were. I won't sit back and let them taunt or talk down to you anymore."

I loosened my tie, pulling at it gratefully. I really hated wearing one. "I do it for you. I'll keep doing it until they crack."

"They won't crack. They just don't get it. And frankly…I don't care if they do anymore. I tried. You tried."

The thought of not having to spend another evening in their cold company filled me with relief. "You sure?"

"Yes. When you're home and there's an event or charity dinner, I'd like it if you came with me, though."

"Absolutely."

She shifted in the seat. "Then that's that."

"We should celebrate."

She giggled. "The end of your torture?"

"Something like that."

"What did you have in mind?"

I had the sudden desire to hold her in my arms. "I know a place—great drinks, music, dancing. Can I interest you, Nightingale?"

"I'd love that!"

"Me too."

_****MN****_

We stumbled in the door at two o'clock in the morning. I'd left the Volvo parked at the club and we took a cab home. We made out all the way home in the back seat and in the elevator up to the loft. I could hardly wait to get her naked.

Pieces of our clothes were strewn around the loft as we made our way to the bed. I growled low as I saw the lacy blue lingerie she was wearing under her pretty dress. I planned on peeling it off her soft skin—with my teeth.

She giggled and I grinned, realizing I'd said that out loud.

I reached out for her, just as my phone rang.

Emmett.

_****MN****_

Every time I left, my heart ached.

I had always enjoyed my career; I liked the travel and adventure, and yes, I even liked the dangerous aspect of it. But lately, when my phone rang with Emmett's ring tone, instead of the thrill of the next great shoot, came the dread of saying goodbye to the woman I'd lost my heart to. The pain of leaving her behind each time grew more intense with each parting.

She was always amazing. I saw the shadow that would cross her face and the worry and sadness in her eyes, but she never once was anything but supportive. I would watch as her hands smoothed and folded clothes into my bag as I gathered my equipment together. I loved knowing she had touched the items in my rucksack. Usually the first night I arrived, when I opened the zipper, I could smell her soft scent within the case. It disappeared quickly, but I had her with me a little while longer.

Every time I was away I made it my mission to find her something and send it. More times than not, it had a nightingale theme. A beautifully carved wooden box I found in Thailand. A silver pendant with an oval disc—the nightingale form carved out of the silver, I saw in Japan. In Hawaii, I found a delicate gold and enamel necklace. I sent other things, like an exquisite pair of diamond earrings I had purchased on a layover in Brussels, but I knew how much the symbols of my name for her meant to both of us and I loved seeing her wear them.

They were small tokens—feeble attempts to make up for the fact I wasn't there with her.

For the first time, I could see the end of this part of my career beginning to take shape. The way the light in her eyes dimmed when my phone rang that night, cut me to the core. Not a word of reproach left her lips, but her sad smile said so much. And every time I left since that night, she seemed sadder, even when I was home. It always felt as though we were both waiting for the phone to ring next time.

The longing I felt when I was away from her, grew every trip. I felt the devastation around me more as I would capture the images with my lens. For the first time, I felt how short life was—how time slipped away. I didn't want to be halfway around the world and away from her. I wanted to build a life with her. I wanted our walls covered in memories we had created together. I wanted to show her the world outside Seattle, see her delight when she felt the warm water of the Islands touch her feet. Watch her hair blow freely as we walked along the highlands in Scotland. See her face glow in the sunrise of Greece. I wanted to share the world with her—not be parted by it.

I said as much to Emmett as we met, discussing the pictures from the last trip. The Tsunami that hit Japan had been horrific in its devastation and the pictures were dark.

"Are you leaving me, Edward?" he asked, laying down the proofs.

"I'm not sure—at least I'm thinking of a change of direction."

"Less time away?"

I nodded. "Less dangerous, too. IzzyB worries. She keeps it to herself, but I can see it etched on her face—every time I leave."

I also felt it when I arrived home. She was always emotional, clinging to me tightly and crying out in her sleep at night when I first got back. The last time I left, she had sobbed when I walked away. I had turned around to wave, only to see her leaning against the car, her head in her hands as her shoulders shook with the force of her tears. Seeing what my leaving did to her when she thought I wasn't looking had shaken me. I stepped back; observing her as she cried, then she pushed off the car and slid into the driver's seat. She sat, hunched and weeping for a few minutes before driving off. Somehow I knew that wasn't the first time. That image stayed with me my whole trip.

"I was thinking of taking some time off to think about my options."

"I'd hate to lose you."

I shrugged. "We both know it'll happen sooner rather than later, Emmett. You have other photographers younger than me wanting to do this stuff."

"You're really going to quit?"

"I think I might be. IzzyB is far more important—I want a different life now."

Emmett nodded, leaning his head back against the chair. "Business-wise, I hate it. Personally, I'm happy for you. But I want you to think about it before you make a final decision."

"I will, but I think I've already made that decision. For sure, I'm taking some time off. I'll give you lots of notice if it's permanent."

"What do you think about Riley? He's itching for a shot."

"He's got a good eye. A little green, but he'll learn."

"Would you consider taking him under your wing for the next while—give me some more time before you take a break? Share your experience?"

I eyed him knowingly. "You want me to teach him the ropes?"

He nodded, not at all ashamed of his plans. "I need you, Edward. I need you to pass on your knowledge and help Riley—which in turn, helps me."

I thought about it. "I'll give you six weeks."

"Fair enough." He paused, stroking his chin. "Would you consider doing a feature with Tom before you go on hiatus?"

"Of?"

"I have a friend—a doctor. Carlisle Cullen." He paused. "Hey, I never thought about the fact you both have the same name. Maybe you're related."

I shrugged. I didn't know a Carlisle in the family—but I didn't know a lot about my extended family. I'd have to ask my uncle.

"Anyway," Emmett continued, "He went to Africa with Doctors Without Borders over two years ago. He hasn't come back. He opened a clinic and an orphanage which he runs with his wife. He's constantly trying to get supplies and help. He's desperate to get more attention for his cause. I thought I'd send a team in to do a story —stay with them for a while and see how they do it. I was going to devote an entire issue to it. Your photos would be an amazing addition to the piece."

"When?"

"I'll arrange it for right after your six weeks with Riley."

I thought about it for a minute—it would be a different experience, staying in one place and capturing images that helped bring a story to life; maybe one that would make a real difference.

"How long away?"

"A week, maybe two. Give me eight weeks. Then take some time and think about it. If you decide you're done, then you're done. We'll talk about a change in direction."

I mulled it over. Eight weeks. If I told IzzyB I was taking a break, and switching my direction, perhaps that would help her worry less. Knowing the end was in sight for the dangerous aspect of my job, she could relax a little.

"Okay. Six weeks with Riley and a couple to do your story. Then I'm done for a few months at least."

He held out his hand. "Done. Do this for me and then take your time. Maybe travel with your IzzyB."

I nodded. I'd like that. I wondered if I could convince her to take a couple months off and travel with me. I wanted to show her the world, take lots of beautiful pictures, and create good memories for us. Then we could come back and settle into a life together. Briefly, I pondered asking her to go to Africa with me, but decided not to—I would be working and when that happened I immersed myself, and I would worry about her too much to be able to do my job properly. When we travelled together, I wanted to concentrate on her.

I slipped my hand inside my pocket, feeling the small box I carried in it. I'd had it for over a month. I'd seen it in an antique shop in London as I wandered around, my flight not leaving until that evening. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for her. Small and delicate, set in white and rose gold, it would be perfect for her tiny finger. Inside, I studied the ring under the loupe the jeweler handed me. Hand tooled with filigree and a unique design it held small, perfect diamonds that caught the light and reflected their brilliance. It wasn't your standard engagement ring, nor was it big and flashy. She would love it because it was special, like her.

I would love to see her wear it, too. I wanted to mark her as mine and marry her.

I shook his hand. "Eight weeks."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. There will be one more update on Sunday and then a break until the 27th so you can enjoy your holdiays. My entry for the Mistletoe contest will post as well before Christmas. <strong>


	16. Chapter 16

IzzyB stared at me, shaking her head. I had just told her what I was planning on doing—changing directions, doing something different with my career and staying with her. "I can't ask you to do that, Edward."

"You're not asking. I'm the one who's making this decision."

She stood up, pacing the room, stopping by the window. "Based on the fact you think I'm upset when you leave."

The sunlight poured in behind her, highlighting the red in her hair. She was wearing one of my T-shirts again, the light showing the curves of her form underneath the thin material. She was fuller, slightly more rounded than the day I met her, which I loved. She looked healthier. She seemed happier as well, but right now, her frown was deep.

I moved toward her, taking her hand in mine. "Are you denying it?" I paused and looked in her eyes. "I saw you, IzzyB. I saw you leaning against the car, crying last time. It almost killed me, knowing I was leaving you like that."

"Yes," she admitted. "I cry. I always cry. But I knew what being involved with you meant, right from the start. You were very honest about it. You can't give up something you love because I'm sad."

"You're not the only one, though. I used to get the call and be on the next plane without a thought. But now, as soon as I leave, I'm anxious to be back. I miss you so fucking much it hurts." Cupping her soft cheek, I stroked the skin with my thumb. "I'm ready for a different life, now." I drew in a deep breath. "One with you."

"What are you saying?"

"I want you to take some time off work and travel with me. Let me show you the world. I'll take you places you've only ever dreamed of. We can discover new ones together."

"But your work…"

"Emmett is going to have me work with Riley. He's a young guy eager for the next adventure, just like I was—and he has a good eye. It's his turn to do this. I want to start taking pictures so full of beauty they'll help rid my mind of all the darkness I've been capturing for so long. The same way you've pushed the darkness out of my heart and filled it with light."

"Edward—"

I hadn't planned this here and now. But the moment was right. I pulled the box out of my pocket and slipped it into her palm, closing her fingers around the tiny leather case. "Come away with me, IzzyB. You can pick the time and place and we'll get married. Anywhere you want. On a beach in Greece with the sun setting behind us, or the highlands at dawn in Scotland. A small chapel in England. Anything you want."

Tears filled her expressive eyes, shining a brilliant blue as she looked between our hands and my eyes.

"Marry me. Start a new life with me. One with no rules or demands. Where the only thing expected of you is to be you. Because you…you are _perfect_ the way you are."

I opened her palm and lifted the lid on the small box. She gasped as she looked at the ring, the diamonds sparkling in the bright sun. "Accept this as a symbol of my love. Wear it and show the world you're mine."

"I…I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. Say yes to a life of love with me. Say yes to finally knowing you _are _enough. You're everything to me, IzzyB. I want to travel with you and fill our heads with memories. Then we can come back here, or go wherever you want, and make a life for ourselves. Have a family and grow old together."

"Your photography?"

"I'll take Emmett up on his offer and do some other types of photos when I feel like it. You won't have to work. You can travel with me if you want." I stepped closer, cupping her face in my hands. "My most cherished work will be documenting our life and our family through the years."

"You really want this?"

"More than anything. " I brushed her lips with mine. "Marry me, please."

"Yes."

_****MN****_

I splayed my cards and snorted. Looking over at Irina, I cocked my eyebrow. "Nice, woman. Do you ever not cheat?"

She shook her head, feigning being indignant. "I have no idea what you're talking about, boy. I dealt the cards, fair and square. You watched me shuffle them."

I shook my head. "Then you sent me to fetch you more ice for your scotch. Which in itself is a travesty, I might add, watering down this fucking amazing scotch. You switched decks while I was gone." I flipped my fingers between us menacingly. "I'm onto you, old woman."

She did this every time. Stacked the deck, added cards, sent me to fetch something from the kitchen—whatever it took for her to win. And I let her since I knew she took all her winnings and donated it to an animal shelter. But I loved teasing her and watching her get all blustery and snotty at me. It amused me to no end.

Beside me, IzzyB giggled; I looked over at her and rolled my eyes. She was the worst poker player in the history of poker. Ever. She really didn't understand the game at all, only playing with us because Irina enjoyed it so much. But when she got a good hand, her tells were so obvious, it was hilarious. Her eyes would widen and she'd smirk and bite her lip, all while holding the cards up in front of her face, as if no one would notice her expression. Often she giggled as well, trying to cover up the sound with a little fake cough. Between Irina's blatant cheating and IzzyB's bad card playing the games were pretty pathetic excuses to sit around, drinking scotch and talking smack.

I enjoyed every single moment of it, because I loved both these women so damned much it was shocking.

I pushed four quarters into the pot and smirked at them both. "Let's go, ladies."

Ten minutes later, I was desperately trying not to laugh at the silliness of playing with these two women. I threw down my cards in mock disgust.

"I fold."

IzzyB crowed as she took the pile, flinging her cards on the table, showing her flush. Irina always let her win a few hands before she went in for the kill. The only time I won anything was when I shuffled the cards, but Irina always insisted her house, her rules and she liked to deal. Her codename for cheat. Neither of us had ever walked out with any winnings. We never would—and I was fine with that.

I grinned and sipped the scotch, rolling the deep, almost smoky flavor around on my tongue. I liked this one.

"Maybe you should start a new business," Irina mused as she watched me actually shuffle the cards and deal them properly.

I arched my eyebrow at her. "A new business?"

She nodded as she arranged her hand, throwing two cards back. "Hit me."

I chuckled and looked at IzzyB. She was frowning and moving her fingers across the cards which meant she had nothing and was trying to figure out what to do. Sure enough, she laid her cards down.

"I fold."

I shook my head. I could never get her to understand what to do next, or how to create a decent hand, and I had given up trying.

"What kind of new business?" I asked, dealing myself a couple new cards.

"Maybe one of those boudoir photo-shoot places."

I almost choked on my drink; the scotch burning my throat. "The only woman I'm interested in taking boudoir shots of is IzzyB, Irina. But thanks for the idea."

"No, you'd do great," she insisted. "With those killer looks, sexy tattoos and smoldering eyes, you'd pack them in."

IzzyB snorted and I shot her a look. "Not happening."

Irina poked at her hair and batted her eyelashes at me. "If I was twenty years younger, I'd let do a spread of me."

I caught IzzyB's gaze and winked. Leaning forward, I brushed Irina's cheek with my lips. "If you were twenty years younger and I was single, I'd take you up on that offer, you minx. It wouldn't be my shutter snapping open in that spread, either."

Both of them started to laugh, and I grinned. I loved making them laugh.

Irina dropped her cards. "I'm tired. No more cards."

Still grinning, I gathered them up and slipped them into the box, handing them to IzzyB. She got up and put them away in the drawer of a small side table Irina kept them in, then she turned to come back to the table and tripped over the edge of the carpet, falling forward, gasping, hands outstretched to break her fall. I lunged, catching her before she hit the floor and dragging her into my arms. I heard the sound of her ring hitting the floor, the metal making a noise as it bounced along the hard wood. She immediately pulled away and went down on her knees, frantically searching for it. I pointed my finger to the left. "By the table, IzzyB."

With a sigh she picked it up, inspecting it for damage. I shook my head at her. "I told you it was too big. You need to put it away until we get it sized."

She nodded sadly as she approached the table. I loved the fact she didn't want to take it off, saying even after a few hours her finger felt wrong without it. She'd been so excited to show it to Irina who had studied it well then kissed us both, wishing us a lifetime of happiness together. She had seemed pleased when I told her of my thoughts of the future.

Irina chuckled as I pulled IzzyB onto my lap. "We'll take it in and get it sized. You'll have it back in no time." I ran my hands down her arms. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No."

I kissed her head. "Good."

Irina smiled at us. "When are you going on this grand adventure?"

I pulled IzzyB tighter. "I promised Em I'd do this feature for him. He thinks it'll happen in about six weeks. I should only be gone for a week or two, then I'm done."

Irina fixed me a look. "So eight weeks and my girl can stop her constant worrying?"

"Irina!" IzzyB admonished quietly.

"It's fine, "I assured her. "Yes, Irina. She can stop worrying. You both can."

Irina sniffed. "I never said I worried about you, boy."

I winked at her. "I know you do, you miserable old bat. You love me."

She rolled her eyes. "You think too much of yourself." Then she chortled. "I can hardly wait to see the look on Renee's face when the two of you announce your engagement." She clapped her hands. "I have to be there."

I shrugged. "Sorry, only those who love me can be present to witness that showdown."

IzzyB giggled, as Irina shot me a frown.

"Bella," she announced haughtily, "I need some tea."

I watched her leave, smiling as she glanced back toward me then wiggled her fingers, admiring her ring. Her delight in my offering warmed my heart.

"You made two of the best decisions of your life today, Edward."

I smirked at Irina. "My job and marrying IzzyB, you mean?"

She snorted. "No, playing poker with me and choosing that scotch. Of course I meant that, you dolt."

Laughing, I shook my head. "I know."

She leaned forward, suddenly earnest, clasping my hand tight. "Life's too short, Edward. Stop taking sad pictures and grab this opportunity. Marry her and take her away—show her the world. Make sure she knows what she means to you. Make lots of babies and memories."

I squeezed her fragile bones carefully. "I will."

"Your decision of a career change is a good one. You can still do what you love and be close. She needs you here—she suffers when you're gone more than you know."

"How?"

"Not only does she miss you terribly every time you leave, and worries herself sick, but Renee and Phil use every excuse to try and cause trouble for you. They invite that Jacob to butt in every chance they get. They just smother her in darkness when you're gone. Use guilt on her every time you're absent. She needs you. She needs you here with her. Get her away from them or they'll control her forever."

I had suspected everything she told me, but IzzyB had never breathed a word. I felt the stirrings of anger in my gut. "Why can't she break free?" I growled. "I'll take care of her. She knows that."

Irina shook her head. "Edward, she was a child when the accident happened. A child already unsure of her place in life given the way she was treated. It's been drummed into her head all these years she isn't enough; that what happened was her fault, and she had to make amends by being perfect." She shook her head. "An impossible task for anyone, but she's tried so hard all her life. It will take her time to finally accept it's okay for her to be happy. To think of herself, to think _for _herself." She patted my hand. "Be patient and keep loving her. She needs to be loved—openly. It's what she's always needed."

"She'll have it forever." I leaned closer, worried. "I'll get called away again before this is over. I promised Emmett I'd give him that."

She nodded. "I'll watch her closely. But promise me as soon as your final commitment is done, you'll take her away."

I hummed in agreement. I was already planning a trip to Hawaii. I wanted IzzyB to see the beauty of the islands, sleep the mornings away with her every day, and dance on the sand under the stars until late in the night. I wanted her to lie by the pool, see her pale skin kissed by the sun, and watch the stress leave her body.

And marry her.

"Come with us."

Irina looked startled. "What?"

"Come with us. I'm taking her to Hawaii. It's not a long flight from here and the villa I plan on renting is huge. You can have your own suite."

"You don't want an old lady there," she scoffed, but I saw the flicker of delight in her eyes.

With a grin, I lifted her hand and kissed it. "No, we want you. IzzyB would love it. You can stay for a week or a month—whatever you want."

"You just want to see me in a bikini."

I threw my head back laughing. "You got me."

"I won't go with you, but I'll come visit for a few days."

"At least a week. Two would be better."

"On one condition."

I grinned at her. "Negotiations? Excellent."

She grinned back. "I want to be there when you tell Renee and Phil."

"You'll have to say it," I teased.

She leaned forward, cupping my face in her hands. They were as soft as powder, the skin thin and pale, her veins a map of bruised purple under the skin. Her rings were cold against my cheeks, but her expression was warm.

"I love you, boy. You and IzzyB. The two of you are my heart."

I held the gaze of a woman I had come to love dearly. She was blunt, honest, and snarky—and underneath all the bluster, was the warmest woman I'd ever know aside from my girl. We loved spending time with her and did so as often as possible.

I kissed her downy cheek, my face beaming at the use of my name for my girl. "Front and center, Irina."

She beamed back at me.

IzzyB walked in, carrying a tray, smiling at us.

My phone rang.

IzzyB stopped smiling.

I shared a look with Irina. She dipped her chin, telling me silently she would watch close.

I stood up to answer, moving past IzzyB. She gave me a brave nod, but I saw the worry in her eyes already taking hold. I stopped beside her, brushing her lips with mine. "Soon," I promised.

I hit _accept_ to stop the ringing, already looking forward to the day it was silent forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. Thank you to Midnight for her beta work. She always makes it so much better. <strong>

**The next update will not be until after Christmas - probably the 27th. If you want to read my Christmas story check it out here- it was an entry in the Beneath the Mistletoe contest. It didn't win anything but I did enjoy writing it. **

s/10904058/1/Our-Wreath

**I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Chanukah, Joyeux Noel... however you say it, whatever name you call it, however you choose to celebrate it. I wish you the joy of the season - days filled with love and laughter and nights filled with peace and rest. **

**Thank you for being a gift to me. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, my friends. Brace yourself. The sad part of the story is beginning. Tissues may be required. Angst and pain will happen in the next few chapters. Then we will move forward to the HEA. **

* * *

><p>Wind tore through my hair, the fierceness of it stinging my eyes. Debris flew around, and I ducked and bobbed, trying to avoid being hit as the storm raged.<p>

This time I was closer to home. The phone call from Emmett had been to tell me about a huge hurricane blowing toward the East Coast, and Riley and I flew out to capture the images as it hit and the aftermath. We'd been watching it roll in, capturing the violence and the beauty as the hurricane came inland. I hit the ground as a huge piece of debris barely missed my head and I knew it was time to retreat. We needed to hunker down until we knew it was safe to return and capture the aftershocks of the storm.

In the small hotel we were staying at with other journalists and photographers, we sat and watched, listening to the howling wind and the crashing outside the thick walls of the hotel. Finally, the eye of the hurricane passed over us and the storm eased.

We ventured out into the weak morning light, staring at the path of destruction. Grimly, I glanced at Riley and tilted my head. "Time to get to work."

Hours later I was exhausted. I hadn't slept in three days, going on adrenaline and caffeine when I could grab it. Wearily I sat on the edge of the old mattress, powering on the satellite phone. There was no other way of getting hold of IzzyB and I knew she'd be worried and watching the news constantly, so I needed to talk to her before I tried sleeping. It was four a.m. here so I knew she'd be at work. I was shocked when the person who answered the phone informed me she wasn't there and refused to give me any more information. When I asked if Mrs. Cope was on duty, she replied with a terse no, then hung up. Immediately I dialed IzzyB's cell phone, worried she was ill. When she answered, her voice was thick and raspy. When she heard my voice, she began to sob.

I stood up and started to pace when I heard her deep cries. "IzzyB—what is it? What's wrong?"

There were more sobs—heart-wrenching, pain-filled sobs that brought tears to my own eyes. "Baby," I pleaded. "Tell me what's wrong. Are you hurt? Ill?"

"No," she gasped out.

"Take a deep breath. I need you to calm down and tell me."

Her voice was so rough; I knew she'd been crying for hours. "Irina," she whimpered.

My heart sank. "Irina?" I repeated in a low voice.

"She…she died, Edward."

_****MN****_

I had to fight, bribe and plead my way home. There were no flights leaving the storm-ravaged Florida. Riley stayed behind to keep working and with Emmett's help, I found a car. I drove as far and as fast as I could; finally getting to a major center and flew back to Seattle and my broken-hearted girl.

Irina had suffered a stroke; IzzyB was finally able to tell me. She had found her, collapsed on the floor of her kitchen and had attempted to perform CPR while waiting for the ambulance.

"I couldn't save her," she'd sobbed into the phone.

I had to tamp down my grief and use everything at my disposal to get to her. Irina had died two days prior and the funeral was happening today. IzzyB had been alone and dealing with her grief for two days, unable to get in touch with me.

When the plane touched down it was already past two and I had missed the ceremony. I knew they would be at the graveyard, so I instructed the cabbie to take me straight there.

I knew I was a mess. I was still wearing the same clothes from the previous day, my dark jeans and T-shirt wrinkled and worn. My hair was wild and I hadn't shaved in days. It didn't matter to me and I knew it wouldn't matter to IzzyB either. My ink was on display and I looked rough and haggard—Irina would have loved it.

I stood at the back of the crowd, finding IzzyB easily. She was standing a little removed from the crowd, right at the front. Dressed in black, her hair pulled back off her face, I saw how pale she was, her skin dull and white against the black of her attire. Her arms were wrapped around her torso, as if she was holding herself in. I wanted to go over and draw her into my arms, but I knew it would cause a scene, and out of respect for Irina, I remained apart from her, waiting for the right time. Her mother and Phil stood near her, neither showing any emotion, nor reaching out to comfort IzzyB. Hovering close was Jacob. More than once I saw his hand reach for hers, but she shook him off each time, moving slightly to the side to avoid his contact. Carefully, I circled the crowd, coming up across from them, lowering my head in reverence to the woman we were saying goodbye to. I kept my eyes on IzzyB, hoping when she finally looked up, she would see me. When the service ended, and people starting to disperse, I focused all my attention on her, willing her to see me.

I moved closer, ignoring the fact that Renee had spotted me and grabbed IzzyB's elbow, attempting to pull her away. Her plan backfired as IzzyB glanced over to see what Renee was frowning about, and with a gasp, ran straight into my open arms.

I held her close, wrapping my arms around her, engulfing her tiny frame completely. I'd only been gone a week, but I could feel how slight she was again. She gripped my waist tightly with her arms, sobbing into my chest as I nuzzled her head, whispering words of comfort to her as I rocked her from side to side. Looking up, I met the baleful stare of the good doctor Jacob, who frowned briefly before turning around and walking away.

"I'm here, IzzyB," I murmured. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Edward—" she sobbed, sounding broken.

She pushed closer and I tightened my hold, feeling the tremors that raced through her constantly.

Renee approached us. "Isabella—control yourself. We need to go to the club. There's a luncheon, and we can't be late."

I gaped at her. Her daughter was on the brink of a breakdown, sobbing openly in my arms and trembling so hard, I was holding her up, and she was worried about being late for a _lunch_?

I shook my head. "We're not going to a lunch."

The cold-hearted bitch smirked at me. "You, Mr. Cullen, were not invited. You're hardly dressed suitably for such things. I'm surprised you managed to pull yourself away from your hobby to make an appearance—as inappropriate as it is."

I narrowed my eyes at her, ignoring her jibe about my work and my place here. "I've been in a place with no power or amenities for the past week, Mrs. Dwyer. I've spent the past thirty-six hours trying to get back here to be with your daughter. I don't think how I'm dressed matters."

"Really, well—"

"What matters"— I cut her off—"is the fact your daughter is distraught, exhausted and in need of care."

"What matters," she hissed back, "Is that Isabella stops this emotional grandstanding and pulls herself together. We will present a united front at the club. She can give in to these ridiculous dramatics later in private." She reached out, attempting to grab IzzyB's arm. "And you have no idea what really matters. Nor do you have any say."

I stepped back, taking IzzyB with me and glared at her. "I believe I do have a say. She isn't going anywhere with you. I'm taking her home and looking after her."

Renee glanced behind her, and I shook my head in disgust. Her daughter was an emotional wreck and all she was worried about was what people would see, what they would think, or say, about our interaction.

"Don't worry, _Renee_," I sneered. "All people see is me holding your daughter and us having a perfectly civilized conversation. Although, if you don't back off, _right the fuck now_, they'll get a show none of you will ever forget. I promise you that."

Our gazes locked. "Do you want to go to this lunch, IzzyB? I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off Renee. I'd go with her if that was what she wanted.

She shook her head against my chest, pulling back and lifting her ravaged face to her mother. "I'm staying with Edward," she rasped. "You go without me."

"Your place is with us," Renee insisted. "Remember your duty."

I rolled my eyes at her statement. I'd had about enough of her "duty" when it came to IzzyB.

"My place is with Edward."

"You're disrespecting Irina's memory, Isabella. This is for her."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped. Irina would have cared less. "You, madam, have no idea what respect is. Your daughter doesn't want to go, so she isn't going. She's staying with me."

"My daughter is coming with me—where she belongs."

A sudden cold breeze stirred the branches of the trees around us, causing the picture of Irina on the easel to thump loudly on the metal bars. I recognized the photo—I had taken it myself one night during a poker game. Irina was glancing away from the camera, laughing hard at something IzzyB had said, the warmth so few people knew, radiating from her. It was my favorite picture of her and a smaller copy was in my loft. No doubt IzzyB had supplied the picture for the service.

I almost started to laugh at the timing and knew this was the moment I'd been waiting for.

It was time to give Irina her last wish. She was waiting—impatiently—and had just given me the sign.

_Front and center,_ I'd promised her.

"IzzyB is staying with me," I stated clearly. I drew in a deep breath. "My _fiancée_ is exhausted and overwrought and will _not _be joining you at the lunch. She's going home—with me. _That _is where she belongs."

Renee's face became ghostly white as her eyes widened. "What did you just say?"

I smiled. "You heard me, _Mom_. IzzyB and I are engaged. So I think I _do_ have a say in the matter. And I say she belongs with me for the rest of the afternoon."

"You lie."

IzzyB turned in my arms. "_Don't _speak to him like that, Mother. He _isn't_ lying. He asked me to marry him and I accepted."

I lifted my arm with a smile. "Want to give me a hug and welcome me to the family?"

Renee's lips thinned, a deep scowl now marring her face. Strangely, it made her look the most human I'd ever seen. "We'll be discussing this when you're calmer, Isabella."

I shook my head. "No, thanks. We've already decided on a small, intimate ceremony in a place of our own choosing. We don't require any _discussions_."

"I won't allow it."

Before I could say anything, IzzyB spoke up. "You have no say in it—I'm an adult and it's my decision. I'm marrying Edward. I love him and he loves me."

I pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head, smiling at her declaration.

"He'll be the ruin of you."

IzzyB shook her head. "No, he brought me to life. He _is _my life, now." Reaching out, she placed a hand on her mother's rigid arm. "Can't you be happy for me? Edward's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Irina adored him—give him a chance, please." She squeezed her mother's arm beseechingly. "Please…Mom."

For one brief second, I thought she had succeeded. There was a small flash of something in Renee's eyes at the word _Mom_, but they quickly became cold again.

"You've been nothing but a disappointment. You do this and I wash my hands of you."

IzzyB sagged into me at the harshness of her mother's words, her hand dropping in defeat.

"You cold-hearted bitch," I seethed. "How could you say that to her? You'll turn your back on your own daughter because she wants to be happy?" I shook my head. "Of course you would. You turned your back on her when you chose that prick of a husband over her. I shouldn't be surprised. You don't deserve her."

With those words, I lifted IzzyB into my arms, cradling her against my chest. "We're staying here for a while and then I'm taking her home. Unless you want that scene, I suggest you step aside." I indicated the small groups, still hovering around, now watching us with interest. "I'm sure your counterparts would love a good show to talk about at your _lunch_."

With a glare, Renee turned on her heel and stormed away. Ignoring everything, and everyone around us, I walked over to Irina's grave and sat down on the stone bench that was close, holding IzzyB.

We needed some time with Irina—alone.

_****MN****_

"I tried to save her."

"I know, Nightingale."

"She wouldn't wake up. I tried," she repeated, her voice plaintive. "But she stopped breathing and then…she was gone."

I drew back, concerned, looking down at her. I had seen her strong and capable. Happy and laughing. Weary and tired. I had also seen the effect her mother and Phil had on her, destroying anything positive and making her feel less than she was, but right now she sounded so lost and vulnerable—almost child-like.

"I'm sorry you found her like that, but I'm sure she knew you were there with her."

"I hope so."

I nuzzled her head. "I'm sure of it."

"I miss her already."

I looked over at the fresh grave, blinking away the moisture that gathered in my eyes. "So do I."

IzzyB tilted her head up. "She loved you, Edward."

"I loved her." I traced a finger down her cheek. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for either of you."

"You're here now."

"Too late to say goodbye."

"Irina hated goodbyes. She always said 'until next time.'"

I nodded, lifting my hand and blowing a kiss in the direction of the sky. "Until then, you minx." A tear slid down my cheek. Another followed in its path.

IzzyB cupped my cheek. "Let it out," she whispered.

I pulled her to me, burying my face into her neck as the dam burst. I cried for Irina and for the future she would never see. I had wanted her to see us married. To hold our first child in her arms and know, beyond any doubt, her Bella was safe and cared for and would be the rest of her life. I had wanted to hear more of her stories and tease her so she laughed. Share another hundred different scotches with her. Let her take my money and give it to whatever charity she wanted. Send her flowers every week for another twenty years.

Kiss her downy cheek and hear her call me "boy."

I had only known her a short time, but she meant as much to me as IzzyB did. She had become my family and her death hit me hard.

I felt IzzyB's shoulders shaking again and she held me fiercely.

Together we mourned the loss of someone we loved.

_****MN****_

IzzyB shifted restlessly in my arms. Even with me here she hadn't slept well since I got home. When I got her back to the loft after the scene at the cemetery, she was so quiet it frightened me. We spent the rest of the afternoon wrapped around each other on her chair with her occasionally breaking into silent tears. I held her close, letting her cry.

At one point she looked up, her eyes red rimmed and sad. "What would I do?" she whispered.

"What, IzzyB? What would do you about what?"

"If I didn't have you? If I hadn't met you, I'd be so alone right now. You and Irina are the two people who have loved me most in this world."

My heart ached at her words. "And I do love you. You have me, my girl. For the rest of my life."

Her eyes filled with tears again. "What will I do if anything happens to you now?"

"Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise. I won't take any risks. We only need to get through the next seven weeks and it's all over."

"You'll be extra careful?"

"Yes."

She burrowed herself closer, her body still shaking. Unable to promise anything else, I held her until she slept, praying we would make it through.

_****MN****_

"Impossible!" Phil shouted, standing up abruptly. "I'll contest!"

Irina's lawyer, Demetri, shook his head. "You'll lose."

IzzyB and I shared a glance. The day after the funeral, we had received a call, telling us to be present when Irina's will was read. Phil and Renee hadn't been happy to see us, and had barely acknowledged our presence. Why we were there quickly became apparent.

Irina had left me a million dollars and a note. When I opened the envelope her spidery writing filled the pink stationary.

_**When the time comes, you'll know what to do with this. **_

_**Remember your promise. **_

_**Look after my girl. I trust you, boy. I love you**_

_**~ Irina**_

Shaking my head, I grinned. Always with the last word. I refolded the paper—I had no idea what she wanted, but I'd invest the money and figure it out eventually. And I would look after IzzyB the rest of my life.

She left a million to Phil. IzzyB received two million. The rest went to a fund that would benefit the local animal shelters for a very long time.

I wasn't sure what Phil was objecting to the most. He didn't need the money. None of us did. I had a feeling it was the money she left IzzyB and me—combined—and what it essentially meant.

Her final act had been to do what she couldn't do while she was alive.

Set IzzyB free.

She was no longer beholden to Phil. She could walk away from the apartment she disliked, pay him back the money he said she owed him and be done. She didn't have to accept anyone's help to do so. All her "debts" would be paid.

As I observed him, I realized that was it. He didn't really give a crap she left me something or that most of it went to helping animals.

His power over IzzyB was gone, and he hated it. He could no longer make her pay for a crime he felt she committed. One she was never guilty of in the first place.

I lowered my head so he didn't see my smirk.

Silently, I sent a thank you to the minx.

She got him in the end.

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><p><strong>I'm sorry. It had to be this way. Update on Wednesday.<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

A week passed and we remained mostly in solitude. We went for walks, I took IzzyB out for a few rides on the bike and we stayed close. She was quieter than normal, rarely starting a conversation, but when I engaged her, she would respond. The first time she laughed, she stopped, her eyes widening and her hand covering her mouth. Gently, I pulled it away. "Don't, IzzyB. Irina loved to hear you laugh. She'd want you to. Her biggest goal in life was for you to be happy." I stroked her cheek. "She wouldn't want us to mourn her—she'd want us to keep going and do everything we talked about."

IzzyB looked at me and nodded. It was her suggestion the next day to go for a picnic. Since it was a rare sunny day, I agreed enthusiastically, pleased she seemed a little more herself today. We drove out of the city, finding a great little meadow off the beaten track I'd been to before. With the blanket spread out and a basket filled with tidbits she had made, we spent the afternoon in lazy enjoyment. At one point I leaned back against the large tree and simply looked at her—lying in the dappled sun, her hair spread around her, she was lovely. Her eyes were shut, one arm tucked behind her head; she looked the most peaceful I'd seen her since I got home. Unable to resist, I lifted my camera, capturing her on film. My collection of pictures of her was large. I loved catching her different moods and expressions. Her eyes said so much when she looked at me—warm and filled with love, even when I pissed her off.

Like I was doing now, taking her picture.

She cracked one eye open. "Put the camera away, Edward. You have enough pictures of me."

"Never."

"I look a mess today; I have no makeup on and I'm in your shirt and pair of sweatpants—hardly attractive."

"I disagree," I informed her, continuing to snap away. "You're beautiful to me no matter what you're wearing."

She sat up, her face serious. "You really think that, don't you? You really think I'm beautiful."

I lowered the camera. "I don't think it—I know it, IzzyB. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. With or without makeup, you take my breath away."

I held out my hand, pulling her onto my lap. Brushing her hair away from her face, I ran my fingers over her soft skin. "I love you, Nightingale."

"I love you," she whispered. "So much, Edward."

I gathered her close, covering her mouth with mine. Her lips were soft underneath mine, molding beneath the pressure. My tongue swept across her bottom lip and slipped inside, tasting her sweetness. Her warm breath filled my mouth, her soft sigh igniting my passion that had been dormant the past few days. She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight, returning my desire. Our tongues danced and stroked, the kiss becoming deeper and more profound. Gentle became powerful. Caressing hands became fists as we tugged, ridding ourselves of the thin barrier of clothing that kept us apart.

IzzyB was wrapped around me, her wet warmth welcoming my aching, needy cock. Her soft breasts pressed to my chest as she started to move over me. She buried her hands into my hair as our kisses became frantic, deeper, wetter. Her sounds escalated as we moved faster, our bodies coming together in perfect rhythm. Long, hard thrusts. Deep, needy kisses. Our hips moved, our mouths fused and our damp skin rubbed together in the most erotic way.

The bark of the tree dug into my back as I guided her hips, but I didn't care. All I cared about was this moment—reconnecting with the woman I loved so deeply, I ached with the feeling. Pleasure so intense it made me groan loudly rushed through me as we lost ourselves to each other.

She surrounded me. Her scent, her sounds, the feeling of completion only she brought out in me. The push and pull of her body as it tightened was intense. Her breathing became small pants in my mouth. Every thrust made me groan as her muscles contracted around me, milking me. Small whimpers made me clutch her tighter. Every ripple of pleasure down my spine intensified as my release threatened. Long shivers ran through her, the hold on my hair tightening to the point it was almost painful. She arched back, her mouth leaving mine, crying out in her release. "_Edward!_"

I drove into her, burying my face in her neck. My hands tensed on her hips, slamming her down as I spilled deep inside her, my orgasm burning through my body like a trail of wildfire.

"_Fuck_…IzzyB…" I groaned into her damp skin, my teeth clamping down as the pleasure became too great and I rode it out cursing and moaning. Never had I experienced this intense, emotional connection with someone. Never had another person overwhelmed me the way she did.

Every. Single. Time.

She shuddered, falling against me heavily. I held her briefly, then leaned over and grabbed my shirt, pulling it around her and buttoning it up. "I don't want you cold," I murmured. "And I love how you look in my clothes." I kissed the end of her nose. "Although taking you out of them is one of my favorite things to do."

"What are your other favorites?" she whispered, nuzzling into my chest.

"Listening to your laugh. Seeing you smile. Hearing you say you love me." I sighed, running my hand through her hair. "Anything to do with you is my favorite, IzzyB."

"I feel the same about you."

From the corner of the blanket where I kicked my pants, my phone rang out, the noise shrill and loud in the silence that surrounded us. IzzyB tensed in my arms.

Emmett hadn't bothered me since I came home, but I knew that wouldn't last very long. I pressed a kiss to her hair. "Do you have to?" she whispered.

"I promised. The sooner I go back and fulfill my word, the sooner I'm done."

"You'll be careful?"

I let the phone go to voicemail. Holding her face between my hands, I nodded. "Yes."

"Mrs. Cope wants me to go back to work as well."

"We have to move forward, IzzyB. Get through the next few weeks and then we can start our new life together. We can do this, right?"

She nodded, although her eyes were sad. "Right."

_****MN****_

Weeks later, her eyes were more than sad. For the first time, the words I had dreaded hearing were spoken.

"Don't go," she pleaded. "Please, Edward, don't go."

My hands stilled in their busy task of packing my equipment; my eyes shutting at the level of desperation in her voice. I couldn't even bring myself to look at her.

"It's the last time, IzzyB."

"That's what you said before—and the time before that."

I nodded, turning to face her.

She was right.

The trip to Africa had been postponed while details were worked out. Now, three weeks past the time I should have been gone and already returning, safe and sound, I was just leaving. In addition, I was going a week extra. Massive storms had torn through the entire country, in many cases setting off wildfires and causing devastation everywhere. Emmett wanted as much of it documented as we could get. Riley was coming with me and then we would meet with Tom and travel to do the feature for Emmett. It was my last assignment. I asked her to go with me, but at the time the shots she needed would have put me behind schedule and she said no. Now, I wished I had insisted, since with the delay, she could have joined me.

But with the additional time waiting and the strange weather around the world, I had barely been home. IzzyB and I briefly would reconnect, then once again I'd be gone, leaving her behind. Each time it got harder.

She tried to be brave and strong, but I knew it was getting too much for her. She cried a lot and she was too thin. Our time together was permeated in sadness, both of us waiting for the phone to ring.

"This is it, Nightingale. I promise. I'll film this storm with Riley, do the feature with Tom and come home—to you." I stepped forward, my hand held out in supplication. "Then I'm done."

"You only got home yesterday," she insisted, her chin raising and her hands clenching at her sides.

"I know," I agreed patiently.

"You could say no. Let Riley go alone."

"I said I would go. I don't want to back away from my word."

Her voice became angry, her eyes flashing at me. "What about your word to me? To Irina? You said you'd stop!"

"I will. It's over after this."

"I don't know if I believe you! You keep leaving me alone, Edward!" Her voice rose. "I _hate_ it!"

Shock widened my eyes as I stared at her. I had never heard her raise her voice or speak with so much venom. I drew in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. I knew things had been bad and how much she hated how often I'd been gone lately. I hated it, too.

I spoke in a firm voice. "I've never lied to you, IzzyB."

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't think you lied knowingly, Edward. I'm just not sure you're really ready to close the door on that part of your life. I'm not sure you _want_ to stop." Her voice dropped, sadness permeating the words. "I'm not sure I'm strong enough to keep doing this anymore."

I shook my head, my heart hammering in my chest at her words. "_I do._ I want to move onto a different life with you. I know the past months have been fucked up. I know I've been away a lot—way more than I hoped. I know you're still mourning Irina and without her here or Alice around, you're lonely and your mother and Phil are being difficult. I hate being away from you as much as you hate me going. But I gave Emmett my word, and I _will _follow through on it. I owe him that."

We stared at each other, frozen at an impasse.

IzzyB turned away. "You need to pack. Your plane leaves in a few hours." She started to walk away, but I reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Don't ask me to leave without us resolving this. I don't want to go knowing you're angry and upset."

"And I don't want you to go. I guess neither one of us is going to get what we want."

Sudden anger tore through me and I shouted at her. "What do you want from me, IzzyB? I'm fucking being pulled in every direction here! I don't want to go, but I have to because I promised Emmett I would! There's an entire crew waiting for me. I have obligations!"

"Fuck your obligations!" she hissed, shaking my hand off her arm.

"_Fuck my obligations?"_ I repeated back to her. I pulled my hand through my hair in vexation, my voice dropping. "You're one to talk. You know all about obligations, _Isabella_. You let them rule your life," I spat. "At least mine are ones I willingly agreed to, not something I do out of misdirected guilt!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. She stepped back as if I had slapped her. I reached out, yanking her to my chest. She pushed against me, but I refused to let her go. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean that. I just…I can't do this with you. Not right now. I have to go. I need to know you understand and when I come back that's it. I _won't_ leave you again." I held her tighter. "Tell me you know that, please."

She was silent.

"Please, IzzyB. Don't do this to me, _to us_," I pleaded. "I can't leave you like this."

She pulled back. "But you'll leave me anyway."

"Are you really going to do this? After everything we've been through? You're going to make me choose? Force me to tell Emmett I won't follow through on my promise and stay here because you don't believe me anymore?"

She paled, her eyes filling with tears. I gazed at her drawn face and made a decision, reaching behind her for my phone.

"If that's what you need—if that's what I have to do to prove this to you, then I will. I'll call Emmett and resign right now."

All of the fight went out of her. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Edward." She turned away. "I'm so sorry."

I caught her, spinning her and dragging her into my arms. "I know, IzzyB. It's almost done. I need you to be strong and brave for a little while longer. One last time."

Her fists gripped my shirt, her voice desperate. "You promise?"

"Yes."

She nodded, her head pressed into my chest. "All right. We need to get you packed."

I pressed my lips to her head. "That's my girl."

****MN****

She didn't hide her tears when I left. They ran down her face unheeded as we stood by the car. The harsh words we'd exchanged still hung between us. I wanted to leave on a good note—I had to see her smile before I left. I wrapped my arms around her.

"Your ring will be ready this week. You can go pick it up. Show it off."

She nodded against my chest, tilting her head back and offering me a watery smile.

"Take a picture of it and send it to me. Let me see it on your finger."

After Irina died, IzzyB tucked the ring away, too sad to even think about it. Finally, I had pulled it out and taken her with me to see about having it done. It was time to move on. The sizing had taken longer than we expected. The rose gold and the intricate pattern on the ring made it a job for a true artist to size it down to fit her tiny finger. The jeweler located on the main floor of my building had found the same antique rose gold and been occupied on the careful work to make it perfect. The gold came from England where I had purchased the ring and with the time it took to find it and have it sent over, plus the time that had lapsed after Irina's passing, we had been waiting weeks for the ring to come back. I wanted it on her finger.

"I added something," I whispered to her.

"What?"

"An inscription."

"What does it say?"

"Forever Mine."

"Am I?"

"Always." I kissed her damp cheek. "A fight doesn't change that, Nightingale."

"Edward!" A voice coming from behind startled me and I looked around to see Riley heading toward us.

"You ready to go, man? I've been waiting!"

I stifled a curse, knowing my time with IzzyB was done. I wanted to be able to talk to her some more and make sure she knew we were going to be fine. But more than that, I needed to know she was going to be fine.

I looked down at her, silently pleading with her to tell me we were okay and she'd be waiting when I got back. She leaned up, brushing my cheek with her lips. "I'll pick up my ring, but I'm waiting until you come home to wear it. I want you to put it on my finger."

I slid my hand up her neck and pulled her to me crashing my mouth to hers. I kissed her with everything I had. Hard, deep, and filled with everything I couldn't say to her. I moved back panting. "Once I put it on, you can't ever take it off."

"Come home safe to me."

"I will. Three weeks, IzzyB. I'll be home in three weeks."

She nodded, stepping away. I grabbed my bags, backing from her slowly. I felt each step tug on my heart. It took everything in me to turn and walk away from her. It still felt as though things were unresolved, even with her sweet words of farewell. I turned back to say something to her, surprised to see she was already moving toward me. I dropped my bag and caught her in my arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you."

"So much, Edward."

"I'll be home to you soon, my Nightingale."

She nodded and released the clasp she had on my neck. I lowered her to her feet, cupping her cheek.

"Come on, Edward!" Riley yelled.

I picked up my bag again, never breaking eye contact with her.

"I'll be here," she smiled shakily.

I held onto those words, as I boarded a plane to Africa, once again leaving her behind.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. Thanks to my prereaders and beta - I am blessed to have you. <strong>

**Happy New Year to you all - I wish you a safe and peaceful one. **

**Next update will be Sunday. **

**As for how long the sad/angst part is the next 2 chapters will be it. Then we move forward. Promise.**

**Thank you again. I hope to see you in 2015. **


	19. Chapter 19

My head fell back against the ripped material of the headrest, my body jarring and shifting as the Jeep hurtled down the torn up road. I ached all over. My tattered clothes were covered in stains of dirt, blood and all manner of fluids. I was beyond exhausted, and after what I'd witnessed recently, it felt as though every nerve in my body was sitting on my skin, burning and humming with anxiety. My thumb repeatedly traced over the screen of my iPhone, the battery long since dead, the power cord lost.

Two more hours.

Two more hours I'd be in a small plane that would take me back to something resembling civilization. A few hours after that, I could shower. Borrow a power cord and plug in my phone and let it charge.

But most important, before any of that happened, I would use the landline at the hotel and call my Nightingale.

I hadn't heard her voice in almost three weeks.

I shut my eyes as my chest swelled with longing to hear her voice.

Even if she was still upset with me, I needed to hear her voice.

She would calm me, help me find my center, and regain enough strength to get home.

To her.

Because where she was—that was home. Then I would never leave her again. I never should have left her this time.

I glanced down at my phone again, I wondered if, when it came to life, it would be filled with her sweet messages of love.

Or, if she was upset enough, it would be empty.

I prayed it was the former.

A deep shuddering exhale of air escaped my lungs.

I needed it to be the former.

_****MN****_

_Flying low over the country, I was shocked at the devastation below us. None of the news reports had shown the true massive destruction the wildfires had caused. Tom was going ahead to the clinic and after we separated, Riley and I hit the ground running, constantly moving as we both filled memory cards up, locking them in a safe container to be tagged and edited when we could. Our guide was amazing, taking us places most people would never see. Image after image filled my head of destroyed villages, dead and displaced animals and land that would take years and years to regrow and replenish. By the time I was shaking Riley's hand goodbye, I was already exhausted. He would now finish on his own, while I headed farther inland to meet up with Tom and do this article. Riley would be long gone home before I would, and I made him promise to call IzzyB and tell her I was fine. I had only gotten one brief message to her and I hoped to get hold of her once I got to the clinic. Tom had the satellite phone so I could use that. He also had most of my clothes and other items—Riley and I only had the bare essentials with us so we could move fast. _

"_Good luck, Edward."_

"_You, too. I'm not around to pull you away from a crumbling precipice, so be careful."_

_He grinned widely. "But what a fucking shot I got—am I right?"_

_I shook my head. Ten years ago I would have said the same thing. I snorted. Ten months ago I would have said it as well. _

_I climbed in the Jeep with my new guide, waving Riley off. I still had a long journey, both by Jeep and plane to get where I was going. _

_I thought about IzzyB the whole time. _

_****MN****_

_Nothing prepared me for what I walked into. A village close to the clinic had fallen victim to the fires, and now the clinic was filled with the wounded and dying. In the blink of an eye, I became a medic, tamping down my revulsion of blood and doing what I could. Dr. Cullen and his wife worked tirelessly, Tom pitching in, as well as any able-bodied person who could help. I dressed wounds, cleaned cuts and gashes, washed and tended burns, before carefully wrapping the affected limb. Carlisle, as he insisted I call him, and his wife Esme, handled the far worse cases. For two days, I did nothing but work, until finally, there was no one left to help—at least for the moment. As I sat surveying the wounded, watching families cry and mourn their dead, I realized I was in far graver danger here, than I had ever exposed myself to in the past. I would have to work harder than ever to keep my promise to my girl._

_When I finally got to hear IzzyB's voice and told her what had happened and why I hadn't been in touch sooner, she immediately realized the serious situation I was in. _

"_Come home," she pleaded through the very bad connection. I covered my ear in a vain attempt to hear her better. All around me, another storm was bearing down on us, the rain and thunder moving in rapidly, almost drowning out the sound of her voice. Every room in every building was full, so I had come outside to call her, desperate to hear her voice. I paced up and down the riverbank, wishing, more than ever, I was on my way home to her._

"_Soon."_

_I could hear the tears of worry in her voice. "What if the fires spread and the clinic is caught? What if you get hurt?"_

"_I won't._ _It's fine. We're fine."_

"_You can't say that, Edward! You don't know what will happen!"_

"_The fires are starting to burn out—it's raining right now. It'll be okay," I soothed, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. I didn't want her angry, but now I'd added to her stress. The fires had come dangerously close to here, but we were sure the hazard was passed now. The sound of the heavy rain approaching was a welcome relief to us all._

"_I want you home."_

"_As soon as this is done."_

"_No," she sobbed. "Now. I can't lose you."_

"_Baby, you won't…"_

"_Don't make me promises you can't keep, Edward!" she yelled. "You're not safe there!"_

_I pulled on my hair in frustration. "IzzyB, I'm…"_

_A scream behind me, the sudden rush of footsteps, and a small body crashing into my legs startled me so bad I swung around, causing the phone to fly from my hand, arcing high and landing in the swirling, rushing water._

_I cursed, screaming profanities into the air, wading into the water, even though I knew I would never recover the phone._

_Carlisle's equipment had been stolen only days before we arrived. I stared at the murky water, realizing what I had just done._

_I'd lost our satellite, and now I had no way to get hold of her._

_****MN****_

_Time passed in a haze of activities. I was a part-time medic as more people showed up from other places affected by the fires; I worked with Carlisle on the story, photographing him working and interacting with the people who adored the "white healer," as he was known. I pitched in and helped repair broken items, roofs, anything that had been damaged by the huge storms and subsequent wildfires that were ignited by the violent lightening. I helped Esme with the children, my heart breaking at the sadness I witnessed daily. It was non-stop. _

_Seeing the desperate need, I sent Tom with the guide to the closest center to get what supplies he could. I also gave him my information to contact Aro to have as many more supplies as he could get purchased state-side and shipped here. He was gone for three days. When he got back, he told me he had left messages every day at IzzyB's home and cell phone, explaining about the satellite and that we were fine. It was the best I could do, although I hated that he hadn't spoken to her directly. He had been unable to purchase another phone, and I still had no way to contact her._

_We stayed for three weeks, unable to leave Carlisle and Esme before that time. I hated leaving even when it was clear it was time to do so. I promised more relief, more supplies and to keep in touch. I had quickly become fond of both of them, admiring their strength and generous loving spirit. _

_Carlisle and I talked at length over our shared last name, comparing family histories and common names. We decided, in the end, we must be distant cousins—a fact that seemed to please both of us. I was proud to think I could be related to this caring humanitarian. He and Esme were committed to being here and making a difference in the lives of these people._

_I knew the story Tom was writing would be powerful and moving and I hoped it meant help for Carlisle's work. The pictures I had taken would add so much to it. I swore I would do whatever it took to bring attention to him and this place. _

_I shook Carlisle's hand and hugged Esme. _

_Then I got in the Jeep and headed toward home, allowing the part of me I'd kept at bay to leak out. I had missed IzzyB so much. My body shook with the force of my need. _

_I needed to get to her. _

_****MN****_

The room was small and sparse. A bed, a chair and a small dresser. The bathroom had a shower, a chipped sink and a toilet. The towels were thin and rough.

After the past few weeks, it was a palace.

I dropped my bags and gear, deciding to take a much-needed shower. The phone in the lobby was busy so I'd have to wait anyway. I found a power cord and plugged in my phone.

The shower was small, but the water was hot and felt great on my tense shoulders. Days of dirt and pain rolled off my skin. There was no shampoo, but the hard soap was fine on my hair. At least it was clean. I had buzzed it off two days after we arrived, and it was now just coming back. I didn't bother shaving.

I dug through my bag, finding the one semi-clean set of clothes I had left in the bottom. I pulled them on, not caring how wrinkled they were. I wasn't flying out until the morning, so I decided I'd find another pair of shorts and a shirt in one of the small shops and then throw out the rest of what I had left. I'd given most of it away to people in desperate need, so my bag was almost empty.

Downstairs the phone was still in use. Tom was sitting, waiting for his turn, and I sat with him. Neither of us spoke much other than to confirm we were flying out first light, and as soon as we arrived in Kenya, he'd book us seats on the first flight home.

"We'll probably have to stay the night and fly home the next day."

I nodded. As long as we were on the way back, and I could talk to IzzyB soon, I could hang on.

"You okay, Edward?"

I looked up, not even realizing I'd been grabbing at the legs of my shorts, twisting the material. I relaxed my hands, flexing them. "Yeah. It's been rough."

"I know. I'm taking some time off once this is done."

Words I never thought I'd say came out of my mouth. "I'm done. For good."

I wasn't going to only think about changing careers. I was giving it up immediately. IzzyB would be happy to hear that. I would never leave her behind again.

_****MN****_

When I finally got to the phone, the line just rang and rang. When her voicemail picked up, it was an automated greeting, so I didn't even get to hear her voice. I frowned, wondering when she changed that. I called her home line, becoming even more confused when a recording came on, saying the number was no longer in service. I hung up, redialing, convinced in my exhaustion I'd dialed incorrectly, but I got the same recording. I tried the cell number again, but the automated voice picked up. This time I left a brief message, telling her I was safe, on the way home and to please call my cell. I paused before adding, "I love you, IzzyB. Please, please call me."

I waited for Tom and we went out, seeking food. I wasn't overly hungry but I knew I needed to eat. When we arrived back at the hotel, I raced upstairs, hoping the charge would be restored and there'd be a message from IzzyB.

The screen came to life and I scrolled through the messages, past the ones from Aro, and various other people, frowning at the lack of ones from IzzyB. I finally found four and hit the earliest one first.

It was short.

**I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. Be safe. **

I shook my head. Was she still apologizing for the fight we had before I left? Or the phone call? I was the one who owed her an apology.

The next one made me frown.

**This is too hard. I didn't mean to yell—I was just so scared. Why did you hang up? I don't know where you are or when you're coming back. Please be safe. **

My head dropped. She thought I'd hung up on her and hadn't called her back. I needed to get hold of her fast. The third one made my chest ache.

**I need you. Where are you? Please tell me you're safe. Just tell me that.**

There was a time lapse leading to the fourth one. Over ten days. It made me fall to my knees as my legs buckled under me.

**I can't do this anymore. This isn't the life I want. I'm sorry, but I don't want to see you again. Don't contact me—it's over. Please leave me alone, Edward. Move on with your life. I plan on doing the same. I wish you the best—stay safe. **

_****MN****_

The plane touched down, gliding to the gate. I let everyone go ahead of me since I wasn't in any rush. I was completely calm as I gathered my bags and headed for the door. I hailed a cab after refusing Tom's offer of a lift home. I was motionless in the cab, not speaking at all.

I walked into the loft, feeling detached. It was dusty and unused.

IzzyB hadn't been here.

I didn't bother picking up my phone to check. I'd done that from the road several times. There were no missed calls from her. No other texts.

When someone finally answered the cell phone, it wasn't IzzyB. They'd only gotten that number a few days prior, they explained. They had no idea who IzzyB was.

Waiting for our flight home, I called the hospital. It took several attempts before I was finally able to get Mrs. Cope on the line. She was sad when she told me IzzyB had quit abruptly. Her attempts to reach her had failed as well.

I looked around the loft, realizing IzzyB must have been here at some point. Her shoes were missing from the floor. Her sweater that always hung by the door was gone. Walking around, I saw _all _her things were gone. I noticed a small item on the edge of my desk, and walking over, I picked it up, my hand shaking with emotion.

Her keys.

She'd taken her things and left her keys.

My fist closed around them, holding so tight, I felt the plastic on the little camera break and the edge of a key cut into my skin. Anger began to simmer, and with a roar of rage, I flung the keys away so hard, they were embedded into the wall, the metal anchoring itself into the drywall. I grabbed my coat and the keys to my motorcycle—I wasn't done with this.

Not by a long shot.

_****MN****_

I stared at Sam. "What did you say?"

"She moved out, Mr. Cullen. The place is up for sale."

"Where did she go?"

"No idea. I was off for a couple days and when I came back, I was told Ms. Swan had moved out."

I rubbed my hand wearily over my face. "Have you seen her, Sam?"

He shook his head, his eyes filled with sympathy. "No, I haven't."

I turned and walked away. I had nothing left to say.

I drove to the hospital, parking my bike on the sidewalk. I knew I'd get a ticket, but I didn't give a flying fuck.

I found Mrs. Cope in the busy ER. When she saw me, she waved me to an empty room.

"Have you heard from her?" I asked, not even bothering with greetings.

"I had an email."

"What did it say?"

"Bella said she decided she couldn't stay here anymore. She told me she broke it off with you and she needed a fresh start. She said she'd check in once she was settled." She paused, squeezing my arm in sympathy. "She told me she's moved out of the city, Edward. I'm sorry."

"Did you reply?" I choked out. I'd beg her for the email address.

"I tried—several times. It bounced back. I can't help you get a hold of her. I'm sorry."

I blinked at her as numbness crept in.

IzzyB was gone.

She was really and truly gone. In fact, she'd run from me. Left her life and disappeared.

Wordlessly, I turned and left.

_****MN****_

"Mrs. Dwyer will see you."

I nodded, pacing as I waited. It had taken me ten minutes of talking to get in the building. The only reason I was allowed in was I threatened to cause a huge scene.

Now I was waiting in the drawing room.

A few minutes later Renee swept in, looking as cold and indifferent as I remembered.

"Where's IzzyB?" I demanded.

"My daughter's whereabouts is none of your concern anymore."

"I need to talk to her."

Renee shook her head. "She doesn't want to talk to you. She wants nothing to do with you. I believe she informed you of that decision."

"Via text," I spat out. "That isn't like IzzyB."

"My daughter's name is Isabella. And I don't believe you left her any other recourse, _but_ to send you a text while you were off taking your pictures, leaving her alone once again, without any communication." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Even after she begged you not to go."

I stepped back in shock. She knew about that?

Renee smiled. A cold, calculated smile. "Yes, Mr. Cullen. She told me. I know you had a fight before you left. She told me everything." She raised a hand, patting her already perfect hair back into place. "After much thought, she decided she couldn't live this way any longer. She spoke with Phil and me at length and decided she wanted to move—she needed a fresh start."

I barked out a humorless laugh. "A move I'm sure you strongly supported."

She regarded me impassively. "Regardless of what she may have told you, I have always had my daughter's best interest at heart. Phil and I agreed it was the best thing for her. She felt she didn't need to be reminded of her little…error in judgment…all the time."

I recoiled. Was that how she thought of me? _An error in judgment?_

"Where is she?"

"None of your business."

"I need to speak to her. I just need—"

"I don't care what you need. You can't have it. Leave my house, Mr. Cullen. Leave my daughter alone. She wants nothing to do with you. Accept it and move on with your life."

She began to leave and my hand shot out.

"Please," I beseeched her.

I wasn't above begging—not for IzzyB.

She shook off my grip, wiping her sleeve with disdain. "I understand you're upset. But it's for the best. Isabella is doing so much better now. She's happy." She fixed me an all-knowing stare. "Even you have to admit, she hadn't been happy for a while, Mr. Cullen. Leave her alone and let her live the life she wants to live. Go and live yours."

She left the room, calling for her butler to show me out.

I went without protest.

I didn't have the strength to fight.

_****MN****_

Two days passed. I did nothing but try and find her. It was as if she had vanished off the face of the earth. With Irina dead, the only other person I could think to reach out to was Alice, and when I called her shop, her assistant told me she was away on a buying trip and refused to give me her contact information. I left my name and a message saying it was an urgent matter, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting a call back.

It struck me then at how small the circle around us had been. Losing Irina had been a blow to both of us. With the life I led, I had few people I considered true friends, and IzzyB's life was so isolated, I knew very few people other than Mrs. Cope and Alice. I didn't know Alice very well, having only met her a few times since our schedules never seemed to line up, but I knew she cared deeply about IzzyB. I knew if she wasn't staying in contact with Mrs. Cope, then none of the other nurses would know how to get hold of her. I tried Alice again, only to once more be told she was out of town. I realized only then I didn't have any other contact information for her other than her store. IzzyB had been the one who had her number. The only Whitlock I could find listed wasn't her number, and had no idea who I was trying to locate.

I felt numb. It was as if my brain and my heart were in two separate places. My brain screamed at me to react, to do something…my heart felt sluggish and empty. I paced a lot. Drank too much scotch. My refrigerator was still empty and I had no desire to put anything in it. I dozed in my old chair, unable to even bear the thought of getting into the bed without IzzyB. I couldn't even sit in the chair she loved.

I kept hoping the phone would ring. That she'd show up at the door and tell me it was all a mistake. I waited for that to happen.

I waited in vain.

**_**MN**_**

A knock at the door startled me and I raced to it, flinging the door open, startling the person on the other side. Mr. Arnold, from the jeweler store downstairs stood there, smiling at me.

"Ah, Mr. Cullen you're home. I thought I saw you earlier. Excellent."

"What can I do for you?" I rasped out.

He held out his hand. "I was waiting for Ms. Swan to pick this up. Since she hadn't come in, I thought I would drop it by for you."

Wordlessly, I stretched out my hand and accepted the small box.

"Come see me when you're ready for your band."

I cleared my throat. "Thank you…for bringing it by."

"No problem." He paused. "Mr. Cullen, are you all right?"

I looked at him, my head already shaking. "No."

I shut the door.

_****MN****_

An hour later I was still holding the box in one hand, the bottle of scotch in the other. Finally, I raised the lid on the box and looked at IzzyB's ring.

Small, delicate and perfect.

Just like her.

The diamonds glittered under the light. The white and rose gold perfectly entwined, the design still as lovely as the day I saw it in the window of the antique shop in London. He had done an amazing job—the work on it perfect. You would never know it hadn't always been this tiny. The inscription mocked me—the small words blazing in my eyes. Words that no longer held any meaning—at least not to IzzyB.

I remembered the day we finally went to see him. She had asked him about a band for me and he quickly sketched up a design that would match hers, but was a little more masculine. He was going to make it up for us when we were ready, and made sure he had ordered enough of the same gold so it would match.

I shut the lid with a loud snap.

I guessed we'd never be ready.

We'd never be getting married.

I lurched to my feet as the burn started. My legs began shaking, my stomach tightening. My chest was on fire as a sudden wave of blistering hot pain course through me. My sluggish heart began racing, my breath coming out in gasps.

She was gone.

My Nightingale was gone and she wasn't coming back.

I'd lost the one thing in my life that was good. By insisting on fulfilling my professional obligations, I had abandoned my personal ones and caused the woman I loved to walk away.

I was a fucking idiot.

I gripped the edge of the counter, a slow rage filling me, chasing away the numbness. With a roar, I flung the small velvet box away. It bounced off the wall, hitting the counter and rolling to the floor.

Suddenly, I wanted everything gone. Destroyed. Nothing was safe. The dishes we bought together shattered against the wall, the shards hitting my skin. Blood dripped from the tiny cuts. Her favorite mug hit the floor exploding in another fury of glass. Small items she'd picked out were destroyed. Her favorite blanket I tore, the material shredding under my angry hands.

Lenses and a few cameras were tossed across the room as I raged. My phone hit the wall, the screen cracking and going black. Everything that sat on top of my desk was enthused with a sweep of my arm. I glanced up and froze. The photo, _my_ photo of her still hung just across from my desk, where I could see it every time I sat there. Stalking over, I gripped the edges, tearing it away from the wall, raising it over my head, intent on destroying it as well.

Except I couldn't. My arms locked in place and slowly I lowered them, the picture resting against the top of the desk. I traced the outline of her freckles with the tip of my shaking finger.

_Enchanting_ I had called them.

Freckles I had touched, kissed, teased with my tongue.

Freckles I wouldn't ever see again.

Hot burning tears coursed down my cheeks, dripping on the glass. They mixed with the blood, splashing red on the image.

My heart's blood.

Rage left and agony moved in. I stumbled back, gripping my hair, one word leaving my mouth.

"_IzzyB._"

I collapsed on the bed, shattered and drained. I buried my face in the pillow—the pillow that still smelled of her. I thundered in rage, no longer able to contain the pain, and let the tears flow, unhindered.

I couldn't stop them now.

I screamed until my voice was gone.

Until the physical pain overrode the pain in my heart.

Until the darkness inside, became the darkness that drowned me.

I succumbed willingly.

* * *

><p><strong>This was the most painful chapter to write of the entire story. His anguish was...overwhelming at times. One more chapter and we will meet up with the prologue and move to the present and their future. Update on Thursday. Remember - HEA. Always HEA.<strong>


	20. Chapter 20

Emmett looked at me, shocked. "Edward, please tell me you're joking."

I shook my head. "No. I'm resigning. Effective immediately. I don't want to do this anymore—no amount of time away will be enough."

He leaned forward. "Look, I know the last trip was rough. I had no idea what you'd be going into would be so intense. Tom is taking a leave for a while. Why don't you do the same? Get your head together. Spend some time with your pretty lady. Come back when you're ready."

I swallowed at his mention of IzzyB. No one knew what had occurred. I didn't plan on sharing.

"No, Emmett. I'm done. The last trip wasn't just rough. The suffering and death I saw—it was devastating."

He nodded slowly. "The satellite phones you ordered for Carlisle arrived and he told me how invaluable you were—and how generous. He said he wasn't sure he would have made it through without your help." His voice dropped. "He told me it was pretty bad."

"It affected me more than I can tell you, Emmett."

"What are you going to do?"

"Actually, I'm going back. The clinic need hands—any kind of hands to help. I'm going to go and do some good for a while and then I'm going to get lost for a few months. Take pictures of beautiful things and try to remember a world that doesn't contain death and devastation."

"I'll take your pictures, Edward. We'll use them in the travel section. Don't quit on me. You're one of my best." His voice was rough. "I was sure you'd change your mind about leaving. I had no idea this trip would push you further away."

I hesitated.

I knew I needed to get out of this city. Away from the memories that now haunted me at every turn. IzzyB was everywhere.

When I woke up after my breakdown, I spent hours cleaning the loft. Sweeping and scrubbing up the mess I had created with my whirlwind temper. The last thing I did was tuck her ring away into the back of my file cabinet. Then I sat down and thought of my options for hours.

She had run away because of me. I thought of how much she loved working at the hospital. Her quiet life she enjoyed, outside the world of Renee and Phil. I had only lived here a few years and aside from people at the magazine, I really had very few things holding me here.

I should be the one to leave. She should be free to come back and live her life. If I wasn't here, she could return. Me being here had to be keeping her away.

I looked at Emmett, his expression hopeful.

"I'll make you a deal."

"Name it."

"I'm still resigning. And I want a press release issued stating that fact, as well as the fact I have left the country indefinitely. If anyone inquires, I'm no longer under contract here."

"Doesn't sound like much of a deal to me."

I held up my hand. "Six months, Emmett. I need to take six months—at least. When I'm ready and I start taking photos again, I'll think about coming back. But that information stays strictly between us. Not a word goes out I might return."

"You're leaving for six months?"

"Yes."

"What about Iz—"

I shook my head before he could say her name.

His face changed; his expression saddening. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"I have to go."

He sighed. "Why do I have a feeling you might never return?"

"There's that chance. But if it happens, I'll let you know."

"I bought your pictures before you lived here, you know. We can do that again."

I nodded. "If and when I begin to work again, you'll be the first to know."

"When do you want the press release out?"

"Tom and I will finish the piece this week. I need a week to get my affairs in order."

"So two weeks?"

"Yes. Release it once I'm gone."

He stood up extending his hand. "I hope to see you back in that chair in six months' time, Edward." He drew in a deep breath. "And without that haunted look on your face."

I shook his hand without replying.

I wasn't sure that look would ever leave.

_****MN****_

I looked around the loft, gazing at the space impassively. My bag was by the door, the case with my equipment beside it.

I had arranged for the loft to be checked on. Aro would handle my business affairs and I would contact him when I could.

On the counter was my new phone. The other one still worked, despite the shattered screen, but with the way I was traveling, I changed plans and numbers. So few people had the old number but I had passed on the new one to them anyway, and to a couple others as well.

The only contact who didn't have it was IzzyB.

I picked up the cracked phone, which hadn't rung in days. Now, unless it was a telemarketer, or a wrong number, the only person who would ever call it was her. I ran my finger over the broken screen and pressed the keys. I hesitated, then cleared my throat and hit voicemail.

"You've reached Edward Cullen. I'm no longer at this number. If it is urgent, contact Aro Volturi at 555-8658." I paused, my voice dropping. "If this is you IzzyB, come home. I love you. I'll always love you."

I hit save and turned off the power. Opening the file cabinet, I tucked it in beside her ring.

I picked up my bags and walked out.

*******Six months later *******

Stars lit the night sky, shining like diamonds thrown into the inky blackness. I had never seen skies like those here in the wide open plains of Africa.

Sighing with weariness, I passed a hand over my face, tugging at my scruffy chin. I needed to shave and cut my hair again. I kept both short here in defense against the constant heat. Lifting my cup, I swallowed the cheap scotch. It was all I could get my hands on.

Carlisle sat down beside me with a groan of relief. "That feels good. My back is killing me."

"Busy day."

"Yeah, but more from unloading all the supplies you bought us. I can't thank you enough, Edward."

"I wish I could do more."

I felt the depth of his sigh. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

I nodded in the darkness. "It's time. I stayed longer than I planned to."

"I'm grateful for every day you gave me, my friend."

"I've arranged for supplies to be delivered every month. If there's something in particular you need, all you have to do is call. Me or Aro. Whatever you need will be sent."

"That's incredibly generous."

I barked out a laugh. "No, Carlisle, what you do is incredibly generous. You devote your life to these people. The clinic and the kids—this orphanage. You and Esme. If I can make your life a little easier sending diapers, formula, and medical supplies, it's the least I can do."

"You've also rebuilt the clinic and helped us enlarge the sleeping quarters," he stated quietly. "You've given months of your time to me—to these people. You'll be missed."

"I'll be back."

I glanced over to the new building. The _Irina Denali Center_ was a rough wooden structure that would service this small area. She had been right, as usual. I knew, as soon as I returned, when and where to use her money. These people would benefit from her generosity.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to take some pictures. Happy ones. I'm going to slowly work my way back to Seattle."

"Will you try and contact her?"

His words hung in the air, heavy between us. I had finally broken down and talked about IzzyB to both Carlisle and Esme. When I had come back, unexpected and unannounced, with three truckloads of supplies, they'd been shocked to see me. When they'd found out I had no determined time frame on staying, they allowed me my privacy, until I was ready to talk. Then they offered only their support and comfort.

"I don't know. She hasn't tried contacting me. I think…I think maybe it's over. I wasn't what she needed."

_She was what I needed though—then and now. _

"Maybe you need to talk to her, Edward. Find some closure."

I didn't reply.

His voice was filled with understanding. "There isn't any closure for you though, is there? You still love her."

"I always will."

"Then find her, Edward. Open a dialogue with her."

"To what end? I can't beat Renee and Phil. I can't make her realize the expectations she allows them to heap on her are wrong. I thought she had finally figured it out, but…"

"You still think they made her give you up."

"They had something to do with it, yes. I know that as surely as I know she loved me. She just…wasn't strong enough without me beside her." I sighed as I scrubbed a weary hand over my face. Irina had been so right on that subject.

"Are you planning on returning to your old life? Flying around the world and never putting down roots?"

"She was my roots. She was the only home I had ever truly known since I lost my parents."

"Then find her. Once and for all, sit down and talk to her. Ask her what happened. Try and fix it."

"I don't know where she is."

"Hire someone—find her."

I nodded—I had been thinking along those lines.

"What's your plan?"

"I'll go back and decide. Maybe take Emmett up on his offer to take destination photos. Or maybe I'll do some of both. I'm not sure I'll even stay in Seattle. I may sell the building and go elsewhere."

He stood up, extending his hand. "Whatever you decide, Edward. If you need me, I'm here."

I looked at him curiously. "Will you ever leave?"

He nodded. "Yes. In a few years, I will. But right now this is where I have to be." He smiled at me and clapped me on the shoulder. "You, my friend, need to be somewhere else. Go and find your life. Don't give up if she's where you have to be. Fight for her."

Then he turned and walked away, his form swallowed up by the dark.

I looked back up at the sky.

If I could find her, I'd fight.

I would fight forever.

_****MN****_

I traveled with no destinations in mind. I saw some more of Africa—the scenery at times lush, the ocean views breathtaking and so far removed from the visions in my head of the past months. I landed back in the States and bought a car, driving myself to various destinations, slowly headed toward Seattle. I visited small towns, urban centers and captured it all on film. Eventually, without telling anyone, I arrived back home, pulling into my garage with the strangest sense of déjà vu. It all looked the same, and yet I wasn't the same person who had left Seattle months ago.

I let myself into the loft, the scent of it familiar and yet so unfamiliar to my nose. A pile of newspapers were on the counter and I realized I had never canceled the delivery. The woman who came in to keep the place tidy obviously piled them up and got rid of them on occasion. I flipped through the dates, seeing I had a couple weeks' worth of the daily news. It would give me something to catch up on.

My fridge was empty, the cupboard bare except for a few tin cans. Wearily, I rubbed my face—I'd go shopping tomorrow.

I stood under the jets of my own shower for ages, recalling the often cold, barely there one at the clinic. Often I would just dunk myself in the river since it was just as effective. The hot water and multiple jets were decadent. I reached for the bottle of shampoo, twisting the cap and suddenly, I was on my knees.

IzzyB.

It was her bottle of shampoo. Her scent that now surrounded me. All the memories I had denied, all the images I had held at bay, exploded in my head.

I shouldn't have come back here.

It was too soon.

It took me only a minute to realize no amount of time passing would ever be sufficient.

I would never stop loving her.

I screwed the cap back on tightly, trying to seal off the memories.

That action failed to work, just like everything else.

_** **MN** **_

Hours later, I shoved the pizza box away, and tossed another newspaper on the floor. I grabbed another beer and took a long swallow. Leaning back in the stool, I sighed and picked up another edition. I skimmed over the headlines, turning the pages quickly. Nothing caught my eye or really interested me, and I decided I'd had enough for now.

And then my eye caught a name on a page I wouldn't normally bother with: the Society page.

Jacob Black.

I unfolded the paper and read the announcement.

My hands tightened on my paper, fisting it so hard it tore under my fingers.

The good doctor was engaged and getting married in a few weeks.

He and his new wife would be moving to Chicago, where he had accepted a new posting at the hospital.

And there was a private party to celebrate two days from now.

My eyes were riveted to the picture of him and his bride-to-be.

_Isabella Swan. _

The glass of the beer bottle shattered as it hit the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading. <strong>

**Next update is Monday. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Ok - We are now back to the start - the prologue. I have reposted it first - you can either read and refresh your memory or skip. **

**The second part follows right after.**

* * *

><p><strong>~EDWARD~<strong>

*****Present time*****

My fingers yanked impatiently at the silk of the tie I was attempting to get in place. I cursed through gritted teeth as I looked at the skewed knot, and once again tore it off. Taking a deep breath in, trying to calm myself, I started again. A memory stirred of the last time I wore one of these godforsaken things.

_Small hands held the length of silk in her palms, her touch confident as she twisted and tugged, smiling while she patted the perfect Windsor knot in place. Standing on her tiptoes she reached up to smooth my shirt collar in place, and I ducked down to help her reach. Warm fingers slid along the fabric as she pulled and adjusted; her voice low and teasing. "Considering the magic your hands can create with so many other things, you'd think you could figure out a tie, Edward."_

_Growling, I lifted her off the floor easily, holding her against my chest. "I'll show you magic later, little girl. My big wand and all."_

_Her giggle made me smile, her kiss was filled with warmth; her touch love personified. She was mine._

I shook my head to clear it as I looked in the mirror, my reflection angry now as I yanked the knot too tight. I didn't have those hands anymore.

He did.

Grabbing my rarely used suit jacket, I thrust my arms into the sleeves then added my press credentials and phone to the right-hand pocket. I frowned when my fingers brushed against something in the bottom of the pocket and I pulled the item out, stopping when I saw what it was.

**_Thank you for doing this. I love you.~ Yours, IB_**

Her writing. Her words. Her love.

Lifting the paper to my nose, I could still smell the faint scent of her on it. Light, airy, floral. She always smelled so good to me. Like home.

I looked at the words again and swallowed the painful lump. I had worn this jacket to have dinner with Renee and Phil—a dinner neither they, nor I, wanted to be at, but I did it for her. Back when she was mine.

_Mine._

She wasn't mine anymore.

Tossing the note on the table, I picked up my camera case, although I didn't plan on using it tonight. It was the prop to get me in. The only way I could think to come face-to-face with the past that haunted me. To get answers to the questions that echoed in my head daily. To stop the ache that burned in my chest every waking moment. Maybe once I did, I could move on.

I ignored the voice in my head telling me moving on was something that would never happen.

The ballroom was crowded. Overflowing with people dressed in gowns, tuxes and jewels. Too many voices, too many faces; all laughing, moving, talking. I swallowed heavily, trying to stay in control. How different this was for her. There was a time she would have hated this sort of event as much as I did. The entire over-the-top fake glamour would've made her shudder, and she would never have wanted to be the center of attention. However, it would seem, things had changed.

She had changed.

I looked around, trying to find her among the many people present.

She was here somewhere.

I could _feel_it.

I hadn't been this close to her in nine months. And now I was here, I wasn't leaving without seeing her. I wanted to know _why_.

Why was I so easy to throw away?

Why had she stopped loving me so abruptly?

She owed me that, at least.

Getting in was easy. I was known well enough, most of the hotel security simply let me walk through. The one time I was stopped, I used my smile, a sly wink, as if we were sharing a secret, flashed my pass, and explained the bride-to-be wanted some special photos taken for her groom and I was doing it on the down-low. The idiot let me in without another thought.

I moved around the perimeter scanning the crowd, keeping my eyes open for her mother and Phil. If they saw me I would be escorted out immediately. I sidled up to one of the many bars and ordered a scotch, knocking it back quickly for added courage. I ordered a second and stood in the shadows as I watched.

Looking. Seeking. For one person.

And then I saw her.

Across the room.

Surrounded by the sort people she once claimed to dislike: fake, loud, brazen.

Seeing her felt like a punch in the gut. A hard one. My stomach twisted, the acid burning its way up my throat as I observed her. She was still perfect. Small. Even in heels, she was tiny enough she would fit under my arm as though she was made to go there. Her dark hair was twisted up in some sort of elaborate style on top of her head, not a strand out of place. Her gown: long, black, tight, and elegant—so out of place on her petite frame. She always liked flowing, loose clothing that "let her move." She always liked to wear my clothes.

"_You ever gonna give me back that shirt, Izzy B?" I grinned at her from the kitchen. "I might want to wear it again one day."_

"_Nope," she giggled, popping the last part of the word loudly. "I like it."_

_I crossed the room, leaning down, my hands resting on the arms of the chair she was curled up in. The one I had made for her so she could be comfortable in this sparse space where I lived. I brought my face close to hers. "I like it, too." My lips ran down the column of her neck, my teeth pulling on the neckline of the shirt teasingly. "I like it far better on the floor, though."_

_Which was where it ended up a few seconds later._

We were never able to keep our hands off each other.

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. My eyes focused on her, staring, following her every move as she mingled, talking to people, often smiling as she listened to whatever they were saying. It took everything in me not to cross the room and grab her. My hand curled tight around the glass I was holding, while the other one drummed restlessly on my thigh, anger building as I watched on in silence.

Her smile was still her—shy, sweet. Her posture still spoke of uncertainty; as though she wasn't entirely comfortable with the spectacle playing out around her. Maybe she hadn't changed completely.

My eyes narrowed. There was something else different: a slight limp to her gait that was never there before. A twisted ankle, perhaps? She was constantly tripping and falling. Strangely enough, it was one of the things I had found most endearing about her. For someone so compact and forced to endure various dance lessons most of her life to help make her graceful, she was remarkably clumsy. Except, from the way she walked, it was as if the slight list to her gait wasn't an injury, but part of her now.

My gaze intensified and I willed her to look my way.

To see me.

I stared, my eyes never wavering and then it happened. Her wide, too-big-for-her-face eyes met mine. Deep, brilliant blue met angry, confused green. She blinked and stared, frozen in place. I glared and fumed, trapped in a haze of memories at the way her eyes had looked at me before.

Warm and caring. Filled with desire. Flashing with anger. Flooded with tears. Overflowing with love. Always so emotional. So easy to read. Constantly changing in their beautiful hue, reflecting her mood and emotion—I'd seen them brilliant blue when she was happy, a soft mossy green when tired or sad and a deep slate gray when angry. I'd captured them all on film. I knew their shades by heart. My soul felt the emotions they portrayed with every glance. But now they were different; staring at me with an expression I didn't recognize, a dullness I had never seen in them. They were always filled with life when she was with me.

Not confused and blank as they regarded me, then she frowned and glanced away.

Dismissing me.

My fist tightened on my glass, my hand shaking so hard I was sure the glass would shatter at any moment, spraying scotch all over me and causing blood to drip down my hand.

The way my heart was dripping blood inside my chest at her indifference to seeing me after all this time.

"Edward?"

I turned to the shocked voice beside me. "What the hell are you doing here?" Alice demanded, narrowing her dark eyes. "How did you even get in?"

I smirked at her, taking a swallow of my scotch, letting the burn settle the tight muscles of my throat. "I came to wish the happy couple congratulations. Capture the moment for prosperity." I indicated the camera I had slung over my shoulder.

"You can't be here! You have no right!"

"_I_ have no right?" I sneered.

She stepped forward. "You chose to walk away. You can't do this to her. Leave."

I gaped at her. I chose to walk away? What the fuck was she talking about?

She grabbed my arm. "Please, Edward. If you ever had any feelings for her, leave. Leave now. I'm begging you."

"I want to talk to her."

"Why?" she hissed.

"I want answers."

She shook her head. "She can't give them to you. Do you not understand?"

"No, Alice. No, I don't. I don't understand a fucking thing about this entire situation."

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. She opened her mouth to speak when I heard it. The voice that had haunted my days, and called to me in my restless sleep. The one that caused my nightmares and had me reach out in desperation, crying out in the darkness to keep the fading image close. The voice that had, at one point in my existence, soothed and calmed me, yet now stirred a frenzy of swirling emotions I wasn't sure I could control.

Her voice.

My IzzyB.

"Alice? Is there a problem?"

My hand closed around Alice's arm, gently pushing her to the side. Bella stood there, a mere three feet from me, staring at me with a frown on her face. Her blue eyes, the ones I loved to capture on film, were confused and unblinking. I stepped forward, my entire body shaking, barely holding on.

"Not a problem," I assured her, my voice thick with emotion. "We were just talking." I drew in a deep breath. "IzzyB."

She grimaced, her hand flying to her forehead, where her fingers restlessly rubbed the skin as though she were in pain. Her fathomless eyes stared at me, her brow furrowed.

"I apologize," she spoke up. "You have me at a disadvantage." Her hand rose in greeting. "I'm Isabella Swan…and you are?"

I stared at her hand and then her beautiful face.

The woman I had loved passionately—desperately—and still loved to this day.

My former fiancée… who was looking at me with no recognition.

As if I were a stranger to her.

And then it hit me as I took in the emptiness in her eyes.

I was.

**~~Now~~**

I paced the floor restlessly, stopping only to slam back another shot of scotch or run my hands through my hair in vexation. I made many trips to the window, looking for her car, but Alice still hadn't shown up.

It had been three hours since she pulled me back into the shadows; her face as shocked as my own senses.

"_What the fuck is going on, Alice?" I hissed. "Why is IzzyB looking at me as though she doesn't know me?"_

_Her eyes searched my face. "You really don't know?"_

_She shook her head, her hand covering her mouth. Her gaze was wild as she scanned the room. Then she gripped my arm, pushing on it. "You have to go. Now."_

_I wrenched my arm free. "I'm not fucking going anywhere until I get some answers."_

"_I'll come to you. As soon as I can. You have to leave, Edward."_

"_Right," I scoffed. "I'll leave and never hear from you again. We already played that game."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_My messages, Alice. I left you messages. You never called me back."_

"_I never got any messages, Edward."_

_Now it was my turn to stare. _

_She held out her hand. "Give me your phone."_

_Wordlessly, I did, and she tapped in her number. "What's your address?"_

"_It's the same. You came over with IzzyB once."_

_Her fingers faltered. "You didn't move?"_

"_Move? I was out of town, but I didn't move."_

"_Go home, Edward. Wait for me."_

_I looked past her, trying to find IzzyB, who after shaking my hand, had excused herself, then simply turned and fled, leaving me gaping after her. It was only Alice's hand pressing on my chest that stopped me from storming after her and demanding to know what the fuck was going on. _

"_Do it for her, Edward," she pleaded._

"_You'll come? You give me your word?"_

_"I gave you my cell and home address. So, yes. I'll be there as soon as I can." She leaned closer. "Don't let anyone see you, or I can't help you."_

I left as she requested, hugging the shadows, slipping out the employee entrance.

Now I was waiting.

I groaned, rolling my neck. I felt as if I was going to burst out of my skin. I had shed my jacket, tugged off my tie and pulled my shirt out of my pants leaving it loose. It still felt as if I was choking.

I heard the elevator and had the door wrenched open before Alice had even made it partway down the hall. Her husband, Jasper, was with her. I had met him only once. He had seemed laid back and happy, but right now his expression was grim as Alice's.

I stepped back to allow them inside, remembering my manners and offering them a drink. Alice smirked at me. "Thanks, Edward, but I have a feeling you've drunk enough for all of us tonight."

"I'm fine. Confused as fuck, but I'm fine." My head was clear. I burned off the effects of the alcohol with the slow simmering anger I could feel coursing through my veins.

Alice sat down, Jasper beside her. I didn't bother wasting any time. I'd wasted enough.

"Why doesn't IzzyB know me, Alice?"

She drew in a deep breath. "When you left for Africa, Bella was upset and so worried. After she spoke with you, and she thought you'd hung up on her, she was so down, so I suggested a trip with me to Aspen. There'd been an early snow and I thought she'd enjoy getting away for a few days—away from here and her mother."

"I didn't hang up. Something startled me and I accidently dropped the phone in the river. We lost all communication."

Alice nodded. "Jasper actually suggested that to her; that there was some sort of mishap—he told her that was probably what happened, since it made the most sense. We told her you'd call back as soon as you could." She smiled ruefully. "Then she worried you'd think she was avoiding your calls when she wasn't home. She was so upset, Edward."

"I tried. I had Tom leave her a message, but she didn't respond. When I finally got my phone to turn on I saw a couple earlier texts from her, but then nothing for ten days." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Then the next text I got, she broke up with me and told me she never wanted to see me again."

Alice and Jasper exchanged a look. Alice leaned forward, clasping my hand. "She couldn't have sent you those texts, Edward. Ten days after those first texts, Bella was in the hospital, recovering from a head injury—caused by an accident. She had no memory of you, or your relationship."

I blinked at her. "What?"

"She lost about ten months of her life, Edward. Including the time you were together."

_****MN****_

After her announcement, Alice stood up. "I need that drink now."

Unable to even move, I waved my hand. "The liquor's in the cabinet."

Jasper stood as well, and a few minutes later a glass was pressed into my hand. "I think you need this, Edward."

I tossed back the shot, allowing the burn to settle through my chest before I spoke again.

"What kind of accident?"

"We were skiing. We always stuck to the easy trails, given Bella's lack of coordination."

A small smile played on my lips. Considering how little she was, IzzyB's center of gravity was questionable at best.

Alice smiled with me, both of us sharing a quiet moment, thinking about the girl we loved.

Then she frowned. "Bella said she'd had enough for the day and was going home—back to the cabin. I still don't understand why, but on her way back she decided she wanted one last run, and for some reason, she tried a different trail—a harder one. It was too difficult for her and she fell. She ended up wrapped around a tree."

My stomach lurched at the thought of her hurt.

"It was bad?"

"She broke her ankle on the way down and her head rammed into the tree. She was unconscious upon rescue and that way for a week. They operated on her foot, but it was pretty bad. She had to have months of therapy on it."

That explained the limp I had seen. I had to clench my hands into tight fists to stop from grabbing something. "Why didn't anyone try and contact me? Let me know what was going on?"

Alice sighed. "Renee told me she did contact you—right away. She said that your communication problem had been solved. She certainly wasn't pleased, but she said she reached out to you."

"She didn't. I had no missed calls or messages from her or even IzzyB's number." I growled in frustration. "I would have come back right away! Chartered a plane to get to her, Alice!" I stood up, unable to stay still any longer. "_Fuck_! I love her! You think I wouldn't be here for her? Even if it was days later? I would have come home immediately!"

She eyed me quietly. "Renee said you asked to be kept updated, but you couldn't come back. She told me she spoke with you directly."

"She fucking lied. I spoke with no one."

Jasper lifted his glass as he looked at Alice. "I think, darlin', she lied about a whole lot of stuff. You'd better tell Edward here the whole story."

I nodded. "Tell me everything, Alice."

"After the accident, I called Renee. She and Phil both flew to Aspen and they sort of took over. I was lucky if I was allowed to go into her room. Bella was unconscious for about a week." She paused and eyed me warily. "Even Jacob flew down."

I couldn't help the hiss that came out of my mouth. "But no one fucking called me."

"I didn't have your number, Edward. Renee had Bella's cellphone and laptop—and she assured me she was keeping you updated when she could get hold of you."

"You didn't question the fact I wasn't there?"

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't know you very well, having only met you a few times. I knew Bella was in love with you, but she was pretty private about things."

"We tried to stay private because of the hassles Renee and Phil gave her all the time. They, ah, didn't like me."

"They really don't like anyone."

"Continue, please."

"Bella woke up and everyone was so relieved. Except it didn't take long to see something was wrong. She was confused and agitated. She didn't know the proper date or why my hair was longer. They did a lot of cognitive tests and we realized a big chunk of her life was missing."

"What happened next?"

Alice frowned. "You have to remember this is Renee and Phil, Edward. Once they got there, I was shoved aside. I was only allowed to see her for brief intervals and I was never alone with her. They had their lawyer there fast and Renee was declared Bella's power of attorney for decision-making—and that continued after she woke up with so much of her memory gone."

They took over her life again, this time with full control. I shuddered at the thought. "How convenient for them."

"When she woke up and we realized what had happened, Renee came to me and said she would be staying with Bella through her recovery. She told me it was time to get back to my life now the danger had passed. She, Phil, and Jacob would handle things from there." Alice paused, fidgeting a little. "I asked her about you, Edward. She told me when she spoke with you and told you of Bella's condition, you informed her you didn't have time to play nursemaid to someone who didn't even know you. She said"—Alice swallowed and cleared her throat—"she said you wished Bella a good life, but you weren't going to be part of it anymore. You'd had enough."

Rage coursed through me at her words. "I. Never. Fucking. Said. That."

"I didn't know you very well, but I questioned Renee about it. It seemed so contradictory to the way Bella described you, or even the feeling I got when I saw the two of you together."

"I would never have deserted her." I frowned at Alice. "When I came back, I went to see Renee. I begged her to tell me where IzzyB was and she refused." I looked down at my hands that were twisting and grasping my pant leg in agitation. "She threw it in my face that IzzyB had been unhappy with all the traveling I'd been doing. She knew about our fight we had and told me IzzyB decided I wasn't worth the hassle and decided to move on. I was so shocked that IzzyB had confided in her, and the way she had broken up with me. It threw me totally."

Alice's cheeks colored and Jasper reached over to take her hand. "That's my fault, Edward."

"What do you mean?"

"When Renee told me what you had supposedly said, I, um, well, I called you a bunch of names and said I couldn't believe you'd do this, just because the two of you had a fight." She shook her head. "Renee sort of played along as if she knew what I was talking about and I told her everything Bella had told me—about your fight and the phone call and how upset she was she couldn't get hold of you to apologize." She sighed. "Bella was so upset with herself, Edward. All she wanted was to hear your voice and know you were all right."

I sat back in shock and relief.

IzzyB hadn't told her mother.

I wasn't an unfortunate _error in judgment._

When the accident happened, she still loved me.

I drew in a deep breath.

"Tell me everything, Alice. Don't leave out a single detail. Especially the part of how Jacob fucking Black ended up engaged to my fiancée. Then I can make a plan."

Her eyes widened. "Your fiancée?"

I nodded emphatically before explaining everything. "I asked her to marry me before Irina died. She said yes, and I gave her a beautiful ring she loved, but we had to have it sized. With everything that happened, though…" My voice trailed off and I cleared my throat. "We hadn't told many people. But Renee knew. She fucking knew."

"What are you going to do?"

"Fight for her. Get her back."

"She doesn't remember you, Edward!"

"Then I'll get her to fall in love with me again until she does remember. Now start talking."

I crossed my leg, my foot swinging in anger.

Renee and Phil had taken her away.

I was going to get her back.

_****MN****_

I found out quickly when Alice was upset she tended to talk too much. Her hands waved and she was emotional. After about ten minutes of her ramblings I realized the best way to get information would be to ask her questions.

"Why was Renee here, Alice, when IzzyB was in the hospital? She was still in recovery then, wasn't she?"

"Yes. Renee sort of went between here and Aspen." She blew out a big breath. "She had obligations here as well, she informed me."

I snorted. "Her only fucking obligation should have been her daughter." I paused to collect my thoughts. "Why didn't you return my messages?"

"I didn't get them. Lauren is no longer with me—I found her lacking on a great deal of things. And she never liked Bella, so if she thought she was screwing her in some way, she would have. " She sighed. "I wish I had gotten them, Edward." She looked into my eyes, her face earnest. "I did call the magazine, trying to find you. They told me you no longer worked there and were out of the country—I called back again and I asked to speak to your direct supervisor, but no one called me back. I even came by here to check and I ran into one of the tenants. He told me you had moved. I thought Renee was telling the truth and you had deserted Bella."

I shook my head. "I thought IzzyB had left town because of me. I left so she could return to her life here. But I always planned on coming back at some point—my leaving wasn't permanent.

"Tell me about her recovery."

Alice sighed. "I can't tell you everything, Edward. Like I said, Renee and Phil took control of Bella and her life. I saw her whenever I was in town—she remained in Aspen to do her therapy. But I was blocked from a lot of contact."

My voice was quiet. "Was she in a lot of pain?"

"Yes—at times, she still is. Her headaches still trouble her. When she's upset she gets confused and forgets things. They aren't sure if that's permanent or if it will go away. She had a second surgery done to her foot, and it helped, but she'll always have a limp."

I hated the thought of her in pain. "She hasn't remembered anything?"

"No."

"Mrs. Cope told me she had an email with IzzyB's resignation."

"Renee did that, I think. If she was responsible for the texts to you, I assume she did the emails. She told Bella the hospital felt she was too great a risk to have working there, so she'd been let go. She had Bella's laptop and her phone the whole time."

"Why does nobody here know what happened? Why the secrecy?"

Alice and Jasper exchanged a knowing look. Jasper spoke this time. "Alice and I were talking about that. This is conjecturing on my part, but I think they saw this as the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. If no one knew what happened to Bella and she simply moved, you couldn't find her if you came looking. No one would ask many questions if they thought it was a decision made by Bella. They got control of her life again, and they could push her in the direction they wanted her to go."

I arched my eyebrow at him. "Big risk considering her memory could come back."

Jasper nodded. "The doctors had told them they felt it was permanent."

Alice broke in. "I think that's why they kept her in Aspen. No memories of you or her life here with you. Although…"

"What?" I prompted.

"Bella showed me her tattoo and asked me when she got it. I honestly told her I didn't know, since I'd never seen it before. I knew the camera had to do with you and I tried to ask her a few things, wondering if maybe it would jog her memory."

"It didn't, obviously."

"She became…upset and agitated. She got a terrible headache and Renee was furious with me. She pulled me out of the room and told me if I tried to talk about you again, she wouldn't let me see her anymore. I saw her even less after that day."

She and Jasper exchanged another glance and Alice's eyes filled with tears. She excused herself and I looked at Jasper. "Is there something I should know?"

His gaze faltered, then he sat up straight. meeting my confused gaze. "Alice and I suffered…a loss…a few months ago, Edward."

"Oh?"

"She, ah, miscarried. We'd been trying for a while and she finally got pregnant—we found out just after Bella's accident. But…" His voice trailed off and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "She's been struggling ever since—we both have—but Alice especially. Only our families know. But it affected her deeply and she hasn't been herself. She didn't consciously give up on Bella, but she's been coping with her own issues."

"IzzyB doesn't know?"

He shook his head. "Alice didn't want to burden her with everything else she was struggling with."

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "You must both be devastated. Is she going to be all right?"

"I'll make sure of it."

"Will you?"

His voice was quiet. "As long as I have her, yes."

We shared a look; one that we both understood—the knowledge of how much we loved the women in our life.

Alice slipped back into the room, and without a thought I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. I knew she and IzzyB had drifted apart a little—life does that to even the closest of friends at times—but I also knew how much IzzyB loved her. She would want to comfort her friend. I offered the only thing I could at the moment. "I don't blame you in any of this Alice, the fault is mine. Please know that."

She drew back. "Looking back, I know I should have pushed more."

I huffed a deep sigh and ran my hand through my hair. "Looking back, I should have done so many things different." Gently, I pushed her down to the couch where Jasper wrapped his arm around her. "Let's not do the whole blame thing and just figure this out, okay?" I asked, sitting back down.

She smiled at me, her eyes damp. "Okay."

I smiled back gently at her. "She'd want to know—she'd want to be there for you."

"I'll tell her."

"Good."

My fingers tapped out an uneven rhythm on the arm of my chair. I drew in a deep breath and asked the question that was burning in my brain. "How did Jacob Black get involved in all this?"

"Bella remembered him. She remembered going on a few dates with him. He was in Aspen all the time visiting her. I assume he managed to convince her they were more than they actually ever were." Alice shook her head. "He's been in love with her from the start. Bella never saw it."

"Hardly news." I ran my finger over my chin. "So when he saw his chance to get her back, he moved in."

Both Alice and Jasper nodded.

"I imagine," I mused, "between Renee, Phil and Jacob, they filled her head with lies and stories and made her think she and Jacob were deeply involved. Knowing IzzyB's need to make people happy, she went with it, thinking she must have been in love with him."

"I think Jacob is safe for her, Edward. He's been there this whole time, and he's something solid she can hold on to. She's so lost, she needs that. I don't think she's in love with him."

"You didn't question the engagement?"

"I asked her if this was what she really wanted and she said yes. Given our limited contact, I had to take her at her word. I didn't want to drive her even further away."

I thought about what she had said to me one time about if she was married and gone she would no longer be their responsibility. "This worked out so well for them, didn't it? They marry her off to the man they chose, he gets the girl he wants, and fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the man who would give up his life for her," I snarled. "They don't give a shit if she's happy, as long as they get what they want." I stood up. "Well, they aren't going to get it. Neither them or that bastard."

I paced the room, pivoting on my heels. "Is she happy, Alice?"

"I don't know if she knows what she is, Edward. She's been told she's happy." She sighed and gave me a small smile. "But she doesn't glow the way she did when she was with you. She seems confused most of the time. It's almost as if, like you say, she is just doing this because she feels she has no choice." She closed her eyes for a moment, a sad expression on her face. "She's also trying to come to terms with Irina's death. It's as if she's reliving it the whole thing."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. My girl was confused, sad, and suffering. And she was doing it all alone.

"Why did they have a party here?"

"Renee and Phil wanted it. They made all the arrangements—Bella just came to town a couple days ago and she's only here for a few weeks. Jacob is leaving for Chicago soon and Bella is moving once they're married. I'm not sure you noticed, but no one from her life, aside from me, was there. It was all for them."

I snorted. "All about image."

Alice nodded. "Just like the fancy wedding. Bella has never wanted one, but that's what's happening."

I shook my head, gritting my teeth. "There isn't going to be a fucking wedding, trust me. And she isn't going anywhere."

Jasper grinned at me. "You got a plan?"

"When is this supposed wedding taking place?"

"Three weeks from now."

"Okay. And she is staying here until then?"

"Yes."

"I assume at their place since they sold her apartment?"

"Yes."

I sat down. "How was she after I left tonight—was she okay?"

Alice shook her head. "She was upset again—she tried to hide it, but I could see it. She was very quiet and I heard her tell Jacob she had a terrible headache. He took her home early. But after you left…"

"What? What happened?"

"She kept looking around. She'd walk around the room, not even talking to people, just walking."

"She was looking for me."

"I think maybe she was."

"I know she was. We've always had an intense connection. If I was close, she always needed me touching her. Holding her hand or sitting near her." I slammed my hand down on the table in anger, hitting it so hard the glasses shook. "She fucking needs me, Alice. She needs me as much as I need her—maybe even more."

"What are you going to do? Can I help?" She clasped my hand. "Let me help, Edward. I believed Renee and I shouldn't have—I should have known better. I want to make it up. Please."

I studied her honest expression. We'd both been deceived. Renee pushed both of us out of IzzyB's life. It was time to change that.

"Yes…I think you're going to meet her for a walk tomorrow."

She smiled. "Will I be showing up for this walk?"

I paused, pursing my lips. "Maybe I need to run into you while you're out for your walk. You could get called away. IzzyB might be more comfortable if she sees you know me."

"Okay that works. But if she is upset…"

"I'll leave her alone. I don't want to cause her any pain. I'll try again the next day. And the day after if I have to."

"Be sure to stay clear of Renee."

"I intend to."

"Be gentle with her, Edward. She's very…fragile."

"I will. But today is the last day she's ever going to be without me again. She belongs with me."

Both Alice and Jasper agreed.

Alice squeezed my hand. "Yes, she does."

"I made too many mistakes. I should have told Emmett I wasn't going. I should never have left without her—then I should have stayed and hired a PI right away when I found she was gone. My head said she left here because of me, even when my heart said she would never leave me the way she did. I let Renee fuck with my head when she taunted me. Every time I thought I was doing the right thing, it was wrong. It was all fucking wrong." I shook my head. "But not this time. Help me get my girl back, Alice." My voice caught. "I need her."

"She needs you, too."

That was all I needed to know.

* * *

><p><strong>So. There you go - I hope it answered some questions. Alice is not the bad person in this story. She is simply human and not perfect. None of us are. <strong>

**Thank you for reading. Update on Friday. **

**Edward is going to start to win back his IzzyB. Will it work?**


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